


The Cerulean Dragon

by jazwriter



Series: Animagus Stories [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Some angst, big ole adventure, here be dragons, lots of loving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 76,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4278267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazwriter/pseuds/jazwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy has disappeared, and Miranda has noticed. Directly after hearing that Andy was sighted in London, Miranda is summoned by the Ministry of Magic to use her special expertise to combat a threat against the wizarding and Muggle worlds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mxrolkr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxrolkr/gifts).



> This story is a crossover between Harry Potter and The Devil Wears Prada, at the request of mxrolkr way back in November 2011. It has been posted in ff.net and LJ previously. It begins in April of 2014—fifteen years after my story, The Rising Phoenix, which is a HP Minerva/Hermione story…yes, this is a sequel with a kick. This story begins about seven and a half years after the movie version of The Devil Wears Prada. To combine the timelines and make it a bit realistic (in an AU, this-is-really-impossible-but-I’m-gonna-try-it kind of way) Andy has not been friends with Lily for sixteen years by 2006. Nor did she or her family live in Ohio.
> 
> Betas are awesome!!! Please spare a moment or three to give silent thanks and praise to some wonderful individuals—shesgottaread, quiethearted, and peetsden for their support and kind words while I pulled out my hair over little details that you probably won’t see but I needed to figure out in order to write the story. I also got great input from those in my writing chatroom, including akasarahsmom (GinStan), ariestess and Ryoshu—thanks!! 
> 
> Disclaimers: I’m still a lawyer and a piss-ant (and I am also called many other “nicknames” given to me over time in bouts of affection, joy, grief, and aggravation, but I won’t share them here). Suffice it to say, I am merely offering this story for its entertainment value, and it’s protected by the fair use doctrine. I am receiving no profit, but hopefully I will receive kind words for my efforts. 
> 
> Oh yeah—I do not own Harry Potter, any of the characters associated with the books, movies, audiotapes, video games, theme park, knick-knacks, assorted sundry, or wands (except for the one I made in my backyard with a dead branch—it still doesn’t work). Nor do I own The Devil Wears Prada or any of its characters as portrayed by the book or movie.

**_Runway_ ** **office, NYC Wednesday, April 2, 2014**

Miranda ran one of the arms of her eyeglasses over her lower lip slowly, her eyes trained on the photographs before her, although she didn’t really see them. She was having trouble concentrating. Sighing, she closed her eyes for a long moment, allowing herself to acknowledge why as she breathed in deeply and exhaled loudly. Her thoughts kept wandering back to that woman who had so effortlessly changed her life so many years ago. Andrea.

Andrea, her former junior assistant and for a short while her first assistant, who had walked away from fashion, from _Runway_ , from her over seven years ago. Every so often Miranda would see the brunette at some publishing function, and they would hold each other’s gazes for a long moment before Miranda would nod slightly and turn away. Miranda had kept tabs on Andrea, watching her writing improve as her articles had quickly inched closer to the front page. It hadn’t taken long for Andrea’s writings to reach the front page and remain on it. She had become the star reporter for that little rag, the _New York Mirror_. And then, nothing.

No bylines, no articles, no Andrea Sachs. Nothing. Miranda had not been surprised to hear that the little newspaper had folded and laid off everyone, including Andrea. What surprised her was how Andrea’s writing had not turned up anywhere else—not even online at some blog or eMagazine. It was disheartening. Unnerving. Concerning.

Miranda had placed some inquiries around town to determine where the younger woman had gone. Andrea’s writings had received recognition, after all, so she should have ended up at some publication within New York. Yet, she could not track the journalist down. Five months had passed.

Five months ago she had disappeared—directly before Christmas—and no one had spoken to her since. Not Emily. Not Nigel. Not anyone from _Runway_ or the _Mirror_ or anywhere else. Or so it seemed.

Miranda knew. She had asked her employees—present and former—directly, no doubt shocking them. She had even gone so far as to try to contact Andrea’s parents by using their contact information as listed on Andrea’s original employment application. Wouldn’t Andrea laugh if she knew that Miranda had kept that generic form for so many years? What Miranda had determined rather quickly was that Andrea’s parents did not live in Ohio. Nor did any other relative of Andrea’s. And no one—in Ohio or New York or anywhere else it seemed—had an address, or a phone number, or any way to contact Andrea.

Consequently, Miranda could not focus on the photographs in front of her. She could not focus on the upcoming summer issue. She could not focus on her two beautiful daughters’ impending graduation from school, or the rising April temperatures, or her thoughts of retiring, or on anything, anything except Andrea’s disappearance.

Although they never had shared a conversation after Andrea had left Miranda’s employ, the younger woman had always held an elevated position in Miranda’s heart, enough so that she had felt all was right with the world while she knew Andrea was well. Now she did not know how Andrea was. No one did. And she was worried. Extremely worried.

Hearing a rustle at the door, Miranda looked up to see Emily standing at the entrance, a file in her hand. Miranda waved her in and donned her glasses as she reached for the file.

“Miranda, these are the latest photographs from Testino. I indicated the ones I would like to use,” Emily said.

Nodding, Miranda reviewed them with a practiced eye, allowing a small smile to inch over her visage as she approved each choice Emily had made. Looking up, Miranda nodded and held the file up. “Go ahead. I want to see the finished layout by Friday.”

Emily smiled, a flush of happiness offsetting the brightness of her eyes. “Thank you.”

When Emily did not turn to leave, Miranda raised an eyebrow. It was enough to prompt her former assistant.

“Miranda,” she said hesitantly, “I received word today that Andy is in London. She bumped into Nigel, literally, while he was there meeting with that new designer, Marcos. They had lunch together. She is not planning to return to the States.”

Fighting to maintain an even voice, Miranda said, “I see. Did she indicate why?”

“She is working for her aunt, evidently.” Emily did not say anything more, and Miranda held back her frustration, barely.

“Contact information?” Miranda asked brusquely.

Emily wordlessly handed over a piece of paper with an address. When Miranda looked up, Emily clarified. “She does not have a phone, but that’s the address where her correspondence goes, not where she is staying.” She shrugged. “That’s all he could get from her.”

Staring at the address, Miranda said softly, “That’s all.” She heard Emily turn and added, “Thank you.” She was surprised to hear Emily reply just as softly that she was welcome.

Miranda sat staring at the address. _What is she doing in London?_ Turning to her laptop, Miranda typed the address into the search engine and clicked on the Google Earth website. She grimaced as the property zoomed in. The address was at a London Post Office. _Of course._

At least she knew where Andrea was. In a very general sense, anyway. She wouldn’t write to the woman, of course. She could never allow Andrea to know just how worried she had been. That just was not an option.

In a couple of months, Miranda would be in London, staying at her townhouse. Perhaps she would run into Andrea.

 _Absurd! What am I thinking? Run into her?_ As if London were some two-bit hick-town with a population of a hundred. Scoffing at her ridiculous thoughts, Miranda did not allow herself to hope. Instead, a heaviness took residence in her chest as she realized that she would probably never see Andrea again unless she revealed her interest in some substantial way.

She had wasted seven years, seven years of loaded glances and silent lips. And Miranda had so much to communicate. She always had believed Andrea would be around. Miranda had thought that she had time, time to accept her feelings, time for Andrea to make her way in the publishing world so that she could never feel as if she were capitalizing on Miranda’s name or giving up her youth by spending time with Miranda. Scoffing at her ridiculous thoughts, Miranda frowned. As if Andrea would have returned her feelings. As if she would have wanted to spend time with her, get to know her. Miranda had lived on hope, though. And now Andrea was gone.

 _But she is safe. And she is well_. Such knowledge would have to be enough. At least, she assumed Andrea was safe and well. For whatever reason Andrea had chosen to start again elsewhere, far away from New York, and _Runway_ , and Miranda.

In London. She was in London. Or somewhere near there. Perhaps she could place some inquiries and see what turned up. After all, Miranda knew the area well. Smirking mirthlessly, Miranda allowed herself to devise a list of people she could contact. She had grown up in London, after all. She knew many government officials. And her family was well-known. In this instance, her family connections would serve her well.

She would confirm that Andrea was there and safe and well. _And if she is not?_ Her mind whispered. If not, Miranda would find the woman, stare into those mesmerizing chocolate eyes, and find out why Andrea’s welfare was so important to her.

Why _she_ was so important to her. Perhaps it was past time for her to face such questions regarding the younger woman. Miranda had a feeling that soon the answers would reveal themselves, in all their naked, raw glory. Change was in the air, and Miranda had learned the hard way that to ignore the signals or to fight them would only usher in heartache and disappointment.

Why was Andrea’s welfare so important to her? She may not be ready to answer that question just yet, but soon the answers would come, regardless. Soon.

***

**Hogwarts School, Scotland Wednesday, April 2, 2014**

Hermione set out the tea just as a knock sounded. “Come in,” she called out, finishing her preparations. She smiled in welcome as their fairly new Charms instructor entered. “Hi, Andy,” she greeted the brunette-haired, brown-eyed woman.

“Good evening, Hermione. How are you?” Andy replied as she leaned in for a hug.

“I’m good. How are you doing?” Hermione said as she took in the tired eyes and rueful grin. “Uh, oh. Let me guess. More dreams?”

Andy’s sigh said it all, as did the way she plopped into a wing back chair gracelessly. “It’s the oddest thing! I keep dreaming of flying high above the mountains, and I feel so free, so powerful—but I don’t know—I don’t feel like me. I feel bigger, more in tune with everything around me. And when I wake up, I feel like this immense being has been stuffed back into my little, itty-bitty body.” Andy looked down and patted her stomach deprecatingly. “Or not so little.”

“Pulleeasse! You are not fat by any means!” Hermione stated as she looked up to watch Minerva sweep into the room and deliver a smile and a kiss on Andy’s cheek. “Minerva, tell her she is not fat.”

Minerva’s eyebrows rose steeply as she focused on Andy. “You, my dear niece, are not fat or overweight or even pudgy. Why would you think otherwise?”

Andy waved her hand dismissively. “It’s just a hold-over from when I worked in the fashion industry. I felt overweight every day I worked there, and compared to everyone else, I was.” Her eyes gained a far-away look. “But that was a long time ago.”

“You are referring to Miranda Priestly, aren’t you?” Hermione said with a smirk, having heard some of the stories over the years.

Andy nodded sheepishly.

“How are her daughters doing in your class?” Hermione asked as she sat down on the sofa and tucked her legs under her. She smiled her thanks when Minerva handed her a cup of steaming tea.

“They are doing a wonderful job. Surprisingly so. Obviously, they have matured over the years. Hogwarts has been good for them. They seem eager to learn, and they are not afraid to take risks. That can work either way, of course, but they come to class well-prepared.” Andy drank some of her tea, her eyes focused on the roaring fire in front of them.

Hermione had taught them for several years, but knew next to nothing about them other than that they lived in New York City during the summer break and in London while on holiday. She had been quite surprised when, after Andy’s first day of teaching, she had arrived at her and Minerva’s private rooms looking spooked. Andy had asked Minerva point blank what she knew about the twins, but Minerva had gently but firmly rebuffed all inquiries. Hermione knew better than to ask, but her curiosity was piqued.

“Are you ever going to tell them that you know them?” Hermione asked.

Shaking her head, Andy said, “No. I’m sure they don’t remember me. It was over seven years ago, and Miranda has employed countless assistants over the years. I didn’t even work for Miranda long enough for them to notice, I’m sure. My claim to fame is delivering the Harry Potter manuscript.” Andy smirked. “They must have been quite shocked to find out how accurate those books are to the wizarding world.”

“They may remember you from that alone. That series was quite popular, as I recall,” Hermione commented. She laughed. “Harry was not amused when he found out someone had written about his life. He said he sounded like a real cry baby in the first few books.” Hermione’s smile faltered. “Not that it was particularly complimentary to me, either.”

“Don’t take it so hard, Hermione. Those books were fairly accurate with your role in the war,” Andy said.

“I disagree,” Minerva interjected. Hermione looked at her wife, curious. She hadn’t realized that Minerva had even read the books. “They do not do you justice, Hermione. They fail to scratch the surface of your intelligence, beauty, or courage. Nor do they reflect our connection—relegating it to just another professor-student relationship. We always had a special bond, even then.”

Smiling broadly, Hermione just stopped herself from kissing Minerva. She would make up for it later, though. She planned on showing her wife just how much she loved her, how that love continued to deepen as they shared life together. “Thank you,” Hermione said, her voice husky. Breaking their heated stare, Hermione returned her attention to Andy. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short, Andy. You are very memorable,” Hermione teased.

“Mm. Well, they have never indicated knowing me, and they have always treated me with the utmost respect. So, no, I don’t believe they have recognized me, and I am not inclined to reveal our past dealings. What’s the point?”

“You do realize that their mother will most likely be present for their graduation ceremony?” Minerva asked, her green eyes reflecting concern. Hermione and Minerva had shared several discussions on the nature of Andy and Miranda’s relationship. Andy always seemed melancholy when discussing her former employer, and Minerva had speculated on several occasions that Andy harbored unresolved romantic feelings for the twins’ mother.

Andy nodded. “Yes, but I am sure she will not remember me, just as her daughters do not. Plus, I am known as Professor McGonagall here, not Sachs as I was in the States. It will be fine,” she muttered, looking toward the fire once more.

Hermione and Minerva shared a knowing look. Hermione didn’t believe Andy for a minute. She was quite sure that Miranda would recognize her, and Andy needed to be ready for it.

“Would it be so bad if she did recognize you?” Minerva asked softly.

Andy’s fearful gaze answered the question. “She won’t,” Andy maintained, her voice shaking.

Picking up on Andy’s agitation, Hermione asked, “Are you all right, Andy?” Andy remained silent.

“Is there something you are not telling us, dear?” Minerva asked gently.

“I ran into Nigel yesterday. He’s the art director at _Runway_. He mentioned that Miranda was looking for me,” Andy admitted with a sigh. Hermione watched her burrow into the chair, arms crossed in front of her like a shield.

 _I knew it!_ “So there _is_ the possibility that she might recognize you. You should be prepared for that,” Hermione insisted, leaning forward to place a hand on Andy’s arm. Andy stubbornly shook her head. Hermione sighed and squeezed the arm beneath her hand before letting go. “Just think about it, Andy.”

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione said, “You know, the girls remind me of another set of twins I knew while attending Hogwarts: the Weasley twins. The Priestlys do everything together, they are bright, and they are constantly playing pranks.”

Andy grinned crookedly. “At least I am no longer the focus of such pranks from the Priestly twins.”

Hermione chuckled. “I am sure that is a relief. Do you know any of the Weasleys?”

“Only by name.” Andy smiled. “Aunt Minerva often told us stories of the twins’ pranks.” Andy laughed. “They drove her crazy, but I think they impressed her with their inventiveness.”

Minerva huffed, but Hermione laughed, knowing well how true Andy’s words were. As she thought of Fred, killed in the last battle against Voldemort, a pang of sadness struck her. A warm hand rubbed her back, and Hermione smiled at her wife, appreciating how well Minerva knew her. She settled back into Minerva’s warm embrace, and reveled in the feelings of love and comfort that Minerva evoked so easily.

They sat in comfortable silence, listening to the fire snap and crackle. They had spent many evenings in just this way. Hermione loved the easy camaraderie and sense of family that connected them.

She remembered the first time she had met Andy during summer holiday in 1999. It had boggled her mind to learn this woman had apprenticed with Filius Flitwick while Hermione had been attending Hogwarts. _How had I not noticed her?_ Hermione had also found out that Andy had been training for her animagus mastery when her parents had been killed while attempting to thwart Bellatrix Lestrange’s and nine other death eaters’ escape from Azkaban—events engineered by Voldemort in January 1996. In honor of her parents’ last request and at the urging of Minerva, Andy had returned to the United States, where she had previously attended the Salem Witches’ Institute instead of Hogwarts, and studied Potions with the world-renowned witch, Lenore Cabiness. Minerva had asked Andy to teach at Hogwarts during their visit that summer, but Andy had decided to return to the States to study English and Journalism.

Evidently, Andy loved books, just as Hermione did. During many subsequent visits they discussed Muggle and wizarding books for hours, their debates often interrupted by Minerva in the wee hours of the morning. And eventually, Andy had procured a job in New York City and regaled them with stories of her fierce boss, Miranda Priestly. Then the stories had stopped, and when they had seen Andy next, her outgoing, vibrant personality had seemed dimmed. It had been quite a marked change.

Eventually, Andy had admitted her change in jobs, but she refused to discuss what had happened to cause it. Hermione doubted she would ever really know what had happened between Andy and Miranda, but one thing was certain—Andy was heartbroken.

“Aunt Minerva, if the offer is still open, I would like to resume my animagus training,” Andy said softly, breaking into Hermione’s musings.

“Does that mean you will be remaining after the end of term?” Minerva asked, her eyes lighting up with hope.

“Yup. If the offer for me to remain as the Charms professor is still open.”

“Of course it is,” Minerva said. “What changed your mind?”

“I didn’t realize how much I had missed it here.” Andy shot a sad smile at Minerva. “Besides, there’s nothing holding me in New York anymore.”

Minerva patted Andy’s arm. “Things have a way of working out, dear. You’ll see.” Andy didn’t look convinced, but Hermione just smiled encouragingly at Andy.

“Well, I should get back to grading the seventh-years’ essays on the dangers of memory charms,” Andy said with a grimace. “Have a good night.”

Hermione rose as Andy did and walked her to the door. After Andy left, Hermione rejoined Minerva on the sofa with a sigh.

“Don’t fret, love. Change is in the air. Andy will resolve her feelings one way or the other,” Minerva said.

Hermione wasn’t so confident, but she had learned long ago to trust Minerva’s judgment. She melted into Minerva’s side, resting her head on a strong shoulder. “It’s hard not to worry. She seems so—I don’t know—incomplete. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“You are helping her by being her friend. She will find her way.”

Feeling familiar fingers slide down her side, Hermione shivered. They rested on her hip as Hermione lifted her head to look into warm green eyes. Smiling, Hermione leaned in to claim a kiss.

“Tha gràdh agam ort,” Minerva whispered when the kiss broke.

“I love you, too,” Hermione replied. She instigated the next kiss, exploring every inch of Minerva’s addictive mouth with her tongue and reveling in the sounds she evoked from her wife. “Let’s go to bed,” Hermione suggested softly, all thoughts of Andy dissipating in the wake of the desire roaring through her. It was always like this. Their kisses demanded she yield to their love, and she had no intention of resisting. She laughed joyously when Minerva swept her up in strong arms and strode toward their bedroom.

“As you wish,” she said, her Scottish burr sliding over Hermione deliciously.

Moments later Hermione was lowered onto their bed gently. She pulled Minerva on top of her and recaptured receptive lips, allowing the bond that pulsed between them to intensify. Hermione wasted no time with removing Minerva’s robes and reacquainting herself with her wife’s alluring body, her sole focus on expressing just how much she loved her. Hermione didn’t think she would ever do an adequate job, but she certainly intended to keep trying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Priestly townhouse, NYC Sunday, April 6, 2014**

Miranda’s cell phone rang just as she finished reading the _New York Times_. Still in her silk nightgown and untied gray robe, a half-drunk mug of steaming coffee before her, this Sunday morning was a quiet, relaxed one. She answered the phone as her eyes glanced at the clock: eight o’clock.

“Mom! How are you? I know we don’t usually call this early, but we are meeting friends in a bit for lunch,” Cassidy began. Miranda shook her head as she smiled. That girl always began a conversation as if she were racing against the clock.

“I am fine, darling. It is good to hear from you. Where are you?” Miranda asked as she crossed her legs at the knee and settled back in her chair, her attention focused entirely on their conversation.

“Um, we went to the townhouse to call you. We ran out of minutes, and it’s such a pain to find a phone near school, anyway,” Cassidy said in a rush.

“You are in London?” Miranda asked, sitting straight up.

“Yes. Not for long, though. And, we’ll make sure the wards are in effect when we leave. I promise.”

“Cassidy, you know how I feel about your being there without me. What if—” Miranda began.

“Don’t worry, Mom. We were careful, I swear. And Santie was glad to see us. Here’s Caroline. I love you!”

Miranda tried not to huff her irritation as Caroline came on the line. She did not want to fight with her girls, but this was not acceptable. They should know better. Her mind flitted to Santie, their house elf, and her ire abated, a soft smile crossing her face. She had released her from servitude decades ago, but the loyal elf had insisted on remaining at their ancestral home.

“Hi, Mom. I’m sorry. I tried to talk Cass out of it, but we were careful. We’ll make sure everything is safe when we leave. Anyway, we figured that we’d be studying hard for exams soon, so we wanted to call you while we could.”

Miranda nodded. “Very well, Caroline. I trust you. Both of you. I am just concerned.”

“We know. But we’re both fine, and our teachers are great, and we’re gonna see you soon. Oh my God, that will be so cool. When’s the last time you were here, anyway? I bet it will look just the same. It’s so great. Our professors are the best. And the new one, Professor McGonagall, is the Headmistress’s niece. She’s brilliant. So is Professor Granger. I’m gonna miss Hogwarts so much. Well, gotta go. Love you!”

Looking at the now-silent phone in consternation, Miranda placed it in front of her on the table gently. Her daughters were graduating in two months. What they intended to do afterward was uncertain. Their grades were top-notch, and they had many options available to them. She knew they felt torn between remaining abroad and rejoining Miranda in New York. Miranda did not want to make their choice harder, so she remained supportive but did not inject her own opinions. Whatever they decided, she would adjust accordingly. If they chose to remain where they were, she would move near them.

Not that she had said as much. Perhaps she should. If they returned to the States to be near her while wishing otherwise, they might come to resent her. She could not bear it.

Rubbing her forehead with her hand, Miranda mused that it all came back to family. She had left her own family for love and turned her back on the wizarding world only to be rejected by Harold when he had found out about her magical abilities. He had broken her heart, and even to this day she found it hard to remain in the same room with him, always reminded of what she had left and how she had lost everything in the process.

Except her girls. She had her girls, and she would do anything for them. She would willingly move to London, leaving New York and _Runway_ without a backward glance. And the fact that Andrea, her Andrea was there now—it made the prospect much more appealing.

After Harold and she had divorced, Miranda had remained in New York instead of returning to England. Perhaps she had acted like a coward. She had not wanted to return to her family’s knowing looks and false comfort. Her parents had warned her, but she had taken the risk, jumping into love like a mindless fool while keeping secrets from him. She had realized too late that love could not survive on such a shaky foundation. And she had not wanted to see such knowledge in everyone’s eyes upon her return to London.

The girls, then five, had been attending the best private schools, learning quickly. In addition, Miranda had revealed their heritage in that simplistic form needed for children, explaining just enough so they could understand. Time passed, and Miranda rebuilt her life. She funneled all her energy into fashion. Then Stephen had come along, and she had made the same mistakes. She did not let him in enough, did not trust him completely. With such a faulty foundation, their relationship was doomed from the start. And he had never even learned who she truly was—how powerful she could be outside the boardroom.

It was during that painful break-up over seven years ago when Miranda had realized that she would never be able to sustain a healthy romantic relationship while trying to hide who she truly was. She also had realized that Andrea, that silly girl with the doe eyes, had slipped under her defenses. Just when Miranda had begun to really trust her, though, Andrea had left.

Out of sight was not out of mind, however. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Miranda felt uneasy no longer having the tenuous connection of newspaper bylines and industry functions to reassure her of Andrea’s continued existence. If she were truthful, she must admit that it bothered her immensely, having no knowledge of how the woman was.

Which led her to her current inability to focus for more than ten minutes on anything else. Miranda jumped up, thoroughly disgusted with herself. Her relaxing morning officially ruined, Miranda decided to dress. Her circular thoughts were getting her nowhere fast. She was a woman of action. She needed to act.

As she walked toward the stairway, the front door rang. She was tempted to ignore the summons, not expecting any company. Her feet stopped in front of the door, though, so she pulled her robe around her tightly and opened the door to find a messenger. _On a Sunday?_ Signing for the delivery, Miranda stared at it curiously. It was from overseas. _From my daughters?_

Opening the letter, she felt a buzz of energy flow through her. A male voice filled the air.

_Dear Madam Priestly,_

Distractedly, Miranda lowered the missive as she wondered how the wizarding world knew of her changed name. Then again, how did they know how to find her? _The girls!_ A rush of adrenalin shot through her, fear for their safety once more surging to the forefront of her mind. She had tried to be so careful.A loud clearing of the throat reminded her of what she held in her hand. She raised the parchment once more.

_I hope this missive finds you well. I realize you chose long ago to live life as a Muggle. However, circumstances have evolved in such a way that I must ask you to return. The safety of not only the wizarding community but also of Muggles worldwide is in jeopardy. Your expertise is desperately needed._

_In the envelope is a portkey to transfer you to the Ministry of Magic. Please come posthaste._

_With warmest regards,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic_

Once the letter had been announced by the minister’s baritone voice, the letter sagged, its magical properties spent. Miranda stood in the hallway with her mouth opened in surprise for several moments before gathering herself. She looked inside the envelope and saw a small Hebridean Black dragon swishing its tail restlessly. She smiled grimly.

This was unprecedented. Even during the last battle against Voldemort, she had not been summoned. What could be so threatening that she would be called forth now? And what was she supposed to do? Drop everything?

_My expertise._

Miranda hardly felt the thump as she slid to the ground. How could this be possible? Her skills were rusty at best. She hadn’t practiced that type of magic in years—decades, even. It was true she had received numerous honors for her actions against Voldemort in the first Great Wizarding Battle. And of course she still used her magic. Yet, others surely had more expertise and more recent experience in dealing with whatever challenges the Ministry was currently facing.

Not to mention, her robes were terribly outdated.

How was it that her past was rushing in around her just now? The timing was so peculiar. Her daughters were there. Andrea was there. And now, it seemed she would be there. What forces were at work?

Change was in the air.

What good would it do to fight it? To hide, trembling like a child, afraid of the future while ignoring the past?

Pushing herself off the ground, Miranda tied her robe and lifted her chin defiantly. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Her parents had died years ago, and she had no siblings. She had kept in touch with many people within the wizarding community, particularly after her first failed marriage. Perhaps it was time to return to the fold. Her daughters were on the cusp of deciding which roads to travel. It was time they knew more of her past so they could make an informed decision.

It was time for Miranda to stop living as if she weren’t a witch. An influential one, in fact, born into an impressive wizarding family. She was needed by the Ministry of Magic.

Ascending the stairs, Miranda’s mind whirled with the myriad of details she would have to attend to in order to take a leave of absence and travel to London. _London? Am I going to do this? Hop at the Ministry’s summons?_

 _Yes. Yes, I am._ She grimaced as she realized she had no idea what they needed or how long she would be gone. It didn’t matter. She had groomed several competent people over the years, Emily included, and she would have to let the pieces fall where they may.

She entered her closet and moved to a little-used section in the corner, pulling out several old garments. Her robes. Looking them over with a critical eye, she acknowledged that they weren’t as bad as she had feared. The material was expensive, the cut flattering, and the magical qualities intact. Donning one, she turned this way and that, admiring how it flowed. It would do. She reached onto the top shelf and reverently lifted an ornately designed wooden box.

Opening it, Miranda removed her wand. The core was hippogriff hair, and the wand wood was fir. Miranda paused a moment to study it. The hippogriff hair symbolized the attributes of the magical beast: pride, loyalty, aggressiveness, affection, and protectiveness. Wands made of fir wood were called “survivors’ wands” because those who owned such wands often survived unscathed from harrowing, death-threatening situations. That was certainly true for Miranda. Fir was known to be resilient and required the wand’s owner to be strong-minded, to remain focused, to maintain strength of purpose, and even to adopt an intimidating demeanor when necessary. This wand reflected her well.

With a nod, Miranda carried the wand and several other robes to her bed and laid them down. Her mind created a check list of tasks she would need to complete over the next few days. It looked like she would be reunited with her daughters sooner than planned. _Won’t they be surprised._

They knew she was a witch, of course. When they had begun to show signs of magical abilities, it was she who had shown them how to conceal such uncontrolled magic from Muggles so that they would not be viewed with suspicion. That included hiding their magic from their father, a requirement they were unable to fulfill.

Being young and full of emotion, the girls had used their newfound abilities to their advantage, including retrieving toys that had been put away for the night, putting the light back on after they were tucked in bed against their wishes, and playing the stereo so they could sing along to their favorite songs. Unfortunately, their young minds could not grasp the seriousness of allowing the wrong person to see such actions. Miranda had explained why they could not do these things in front of their father, but they had not understood. They loved him, and they could not imagine him ever rejecting them.

Unfortunately, that is exactly what had occurred. Home early one evening, Harold had walked in to find the girls happily levitating their teddy bears above their beds. He had not reacted well. Not only had he feared his children, but when he had found out that Miranda was an established witch, he had rejected her, too. She had had no choice but to remove from his memories his knowledge of their magical abilities, and with a broken heart she had instituted divorce proceedings, claiming she no longer loved him.

For a long time, the twins had blamed themselves for the loss of their father within their home. Miranda had struggled to explain that the fault lay with her for failing to reveal her abilities to him before they married. They had not understood, and to this day they refused to believe that it was solely her fault. Their relationship with him had remained distant, and since they began Hogwarts seven years ago, they only had seen him for a few weeks each year.

Smiling involuntary, Miranda remembered fondly when their letters of acceptance had arrived while they were on holiday in London. Filius Flitwick had delivered them in person, taking the opportunity to convince her of the wisdom for allowing her daughters to attend Hogwarts. He had been correct. Over the years they had matured dramatically, and Miranda could not be prouder of the young women they had become.

If the Minister was contacting her for help, then it was possible her girls were in danger. That was unacceptable.

Straightening to her full height, Miranda pushed back her shoulders and lifted her chin proudly. Glancing at the mirror, she took note of her iconic white hair, fashionable black robe, and sparkling blue eyes. She felt more alive now than she had in years. This challenge would be good. Upping the timetable for traveling to London by a few months would not hurt her, and maybe she would find a way to make peace with the past while planning for her future.

Hitting speed dial, she barked into the telephone, “Be in the office by ten. That’s all.”

Shucking her robe and underlying clothing, Miranda showered quickly while mentally listing what needed to happen today. Once dressed, she called Roy for the car and made it to the office with time to spare. Usually, she did not work on Sundays, but it was imperative to clear her desk and prepare Emily.

By the time Emily arrived—a half hour early, Miranda noticed with approval—Miranda had worked through her emails and attended to the most important items for the upcoming issue. Miranda ushered Emily into her office and took off her glasses.

“Emily, I am leaving tomorrow afternoon for London. I had mentioned to you my plans of traveling there in mid-June for my daughters’ graduation, but something has happened, necessitating I move up the time table. In my absence, you will be the acting editor-in-chief. You have been my second-in-command long enough to know what to do. I have confidence in your abilities.” Miranda paused, contemplating her next words as she gazed at Emily.

The woman had matured over the years. After Andrea had left, Emily had worked admirably and without complaint. As _Runway_ ’s Executive Editor for the last three years, Emily had blossomed even more. She knew that Emily would not let her down. Not let the magazine down.

“Use your resources. You know who can do what. Delegating is key to getting everything done in a timely fashion. I will be available by phone and email, but only to a limited extent. At times I will be unable to answer immediately or even within the day, so make sure to plan ahead.” Miranda leaned forward and stared into Emily’s widened eyes, deciding to reveal more. “I have been grooming you to take over my position permanently. Use this opportunity to impress the board.”

A loud silence filled the room once Miranda stopped talking. She allowed Emily time to digest her words, for once not minding the wait. She expected that Emily had many questions but would ask few, if any. Although she saw the confusion, the hesitation, even the fear on Emily’s face, years of conditioning would stem Emily’s curiosity.

“Are your daughters all right?” Emily asked. Miranda smiled, pleased that Emily began with such a question.

Nodding, Miranda said, “They are. In fact, they are unaware of my impending visit. Now, let’s go over what needs to happen for the upcoming issue.” They spent the afternoon reviewing all the details of Miranda’s job. She knew that Emily was well-versed in all the facets of the magazine, but she also was aware that reviewing everything would help Emily to slip into the role more easily.

Before Emily left, she paused in front of the desk, her face a question mark as she struggled. Her uncertain look prompted Miranda to say, “Just spit it out, Emily.”

“Does this have anything to do with Andy?”

Shocked, Miranda’s eyes widened. “Not at all. I simply have no idea how you could conceive of such an outlandish thought. I haven’t spoken to that girl since she left _Runway_. Honestly, Emily, don’t be ridiculous!”

“Right. Of course. I’m sorry, Miranda. Safe trip, then,” Emily said.

Miranda watched as Emily quickly began backing out of the office, _as if afraid I might smite her down if she isn’t watching me_ , Miranda thought caustically. “Emily.” Miranda watched Emily freeze in the doorway and waited for the younger woman to look at her, trepidation clearly etched on her English features. “If you or Nigel determine where she is, I hope you will forward the information to me. Since I will be there, anyway…” Miranda let the sentence fade as she tilted her head.

“Absolutely,” Emily exhaled, nodding her head several times.

“That’s all,” Miranda said and turned her chair toward the bank of windows behind her without bothering to wait for a response. Her fingers played with the chunky necklace she wore while thinking about Emily’s question. Obviously, her interest in Andrea’s whereabouts had stirred up some curiosity. Pressing her lips together, Miranda admitted to herself that she could have handled the situation better. After all, it was a natural leap in logic.

With a sigh, Miranda turned her mind toward the impending trip. She would have Cara take care of her house and forward any personal correspondence. Santie always kept the Princhek household immaculate, but she would need to arrange for food to be delivered.

Once she returned home, she would pack, eat, and go to bed. She had a feeling she would need a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow promised to be an interesting day. With a small smile, Miranda swung her chair back to face her desk. She wondered idly whether she would ever sit in this chair again. It surprised her to realize that the possibility of never returning to _Runway_ no longer scared her. Instead, she felt a shiver of anticipation travel down her spine.

Oh, yes. Change was in the air.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hogwarts School, Scotland, Monday, April 7, 2014**

Andy dismissed her last class of the day, holding in a sigh, barely. She felt out of sorts, and she did not wish to acknowledge why. In truth, she should feel rather satisfied. Her classes were progressing well, and even her seventh years seemed intent on learning as much as possible before sitting for their N.E.W.T. exams. If she were younger and not as self-aware, she might have attributed her restlessness to spring fever. She knew herself much too well, however, to hide from the truth.

She was, in a sense, grieving. Grieving for the loss of New York’s hustle and bustle. Although London held its own charm, it was not the same. She hardly had time to visit the City, anyway, and there was no chance of catching sight of anyone she knew from New York or, in particular, that one person she missed. _Although I did bump into Nigel, of all people, just last week_. She grinned.

His reaction had been priceless. He had been so surprised that he had actually tripped on the sidewalk, necessitating that Andy reach out to steady him. They had shared lunch, and he had plagued her with endless questions. Why was she in London? How long would she be there? Working for her aunt—doing what? How could he get in touch with her in the future? What about her writing career?

She hadn’t wanted to answer his questions, and to a great extent she hadn’t. She felt it was best to keep her life in New York and her life at Hogwarts as separate as possible. It was hard enough to not think of New York, of _her_ , each time she saw Miranda’s daughters during Charms class. It would only muddy the waters that much more if she gave Nigel an easy way to contact her. So she had given him the address of a post office rental she had set up when she had decided to teach at Hogwarts. It was a street address, so only a person who took the time to research it would know that it was not her residence.

Nigel’s parting words had rung in her ears ever since their unplanned lunch. “She’s been looking for you, Six. I dare say she’s worried. We all have been. But our Snow Queen, well, you know how she is. The fact that she has been asking about you says a lot. Wouldn’t you agree?” He had given her a pointed look before air kissing her cheeks in farewell.

Hearing a politely cleared throat, Andy looked up from her desktop, strewn with piles of paperwork. She had not realized that, while staring blankly at the stacks of homework waiting to be graded in front of her, Caroline and Cassidy Priestly had remained seated.

“May I help you?” Andy asked, noting their nervousness with interest.

“Yes, Professor,” one of the girls began. Andy was sure that was Caroline. She was a bit more assertive and tended to sit straighter. She also had more freckles across the bridge of her nose and lighter red hair than her twin. “Cassidy and I, we were wondering whether you used to live in New York City.”

“That really is none of your concern,” Andy immediately answered. Professors tried not to reveal their personal lives to students. Not that she believed they would use such knowledge against her, but she was uncertain whether she wanted them to piece together the fact that she knew them and their mother outside of school. The swirl of emotions Caroline’s simple question evoked warned Andy that it was best to deflect their curiosity.

“Oh, well, of course not,” Caroline said quickly. “Only, you seem familiar to us, like someone who used to work for our mom.” She stopped and stared expectantly at Andy.

Not wanting to lie, Andy wondered how best to respond. If she confirmed the connection, they might have more questions. It amazed her that they even remembered her from so many years ago. “What do you know of my past, exactly?” Andy asked.

Cassidy spoke up this time. “We looked you up in _The History of Hogwarts_. It said you went to school in the United States. That’s where we live, too. In New York City. And you look so much like her…”

“Like who?” Andy asked softly.

“Andy Sachs. I know that’s not your last name, but Mom changed her name when she came to the United States, too, ’cause she didn’t want anyone to track her down and hurt us,” Cassidy blurted out.

“What’s your mother’s true name?” Andy asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Miriam Princhek,” Caroline said.

Andy’s eyes rounded in surprise. _That was Miranda?_ “Accio _Notable Witches and Wizards_ ,” Andy commanded. She kept her eyes trained on the twins, whose eyes had also widened at Andy’s response. A moment later, Andy felt the air shift as the heavy tome flew toward her, the summoning charm working perfectly. The book had a record of every witch and wizard of importance. It magically updated itself as noteworthy events occurred. She extended her hand and finally broke eye contact as she grunted with the weight of the tome.

Opening the weathered book, Andy scanned to the correct page and gasped. Miriam Princhek stared imperiously at her, as if daring Andy to deny what she saw. Miranda—a younger version certainly, but her nonetheless. She read the information underneath quickly. Hogwarts 1966 to 1973, Prefect and Head Girl for Slytherin House, Lead Dragon Master for Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures from 1973 to 1985. Independent Contractor and Consultant for Dragon Behavior 2014 to present.

“She was a dragonologist?” Andy exclaimed. That was extremely rare.

“No, she only studied with Scamander,” Caroline said. Newton Scamander, the famous dragonologist who wrote _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ —a mandatory book at Hogwarts. He was a legend, one of the few people able to communicate with dragons. Andy shook her head, finding it hard to reconcile who she had known at _Runway_ and this powerful witch.

Flipping the pages, Andy found her own name. An animated picture of herself looked back and smiled cheerily. Underneath her picture it said: Salem Witches’ Institute 1984 to 1991, Charms Master Apprenticeship 1991 to 1995, Potion Master Apprenticeship 1996 to 2000, Northwestern University (Muggle) for English Language and Journalism 2000 to 2005. Professor at Hogwarts 2014 to present.

Andy returned to the page where Miranda was located and watched as the picture tilted her head and stared back. _What does that last entry mean?_ “Have you told her about me?” Andy asked distractedly as her eyes continued to roam over the picture hungrily.

“It’s you, then?” Cassidy said excitedly.

Andy’s eyes were ripped from the page with those words, and she stared solemnly at them for several moments before finally nodding her head.

“I knew it!” Caroline said excitedly. “You got us the _Harry Potter_ manuscript just a few months before we got the acceptance letters from Hogwarts. Mom was so sad when you left.”

“Why did you leave?” Cassidy asked.

“Did you remember us?” Caroline asked.

“Did you go to Hogwarts, too?” Cassidy asked.

“Mom said you were a writer for the _Mirror_ ,” Caroline said.

“Girls!” Andy said firmly, stemming the flow of words. She shook her head, wondering what to tell them and how many questions, if any, she should answer. Before she could say a word, though, they heard a voice Andy had never anticipated ever hearing again.

“Caroline. Cassidy, are you in there?” The door opened completely, and Miranda strode into the room as if she owned it.

Andy looked down quickly and began gathering her materials as the girls ran to their mother. Glancing up fleetingly, Andy saw Miranda embracing the twins as they plied her with questions. The woman was a sight for sore eyes. Tailored black robes with tasteful silver designs etched on the shoulders emphasized a svelte figure and her signature coif of silvery-white hair. Smiling wryly, Andy turned around and exited through a side door to her office, leaving them to their reunion before penetrating blue eyes could meet hers. She knew she was behaving like a coward and only delaying the inevitable, but the thought of actually talking to Miranda after all this time made her tremble. She needed some time to ready herself.

As if she would ever be ready.

***

“I heard you two talking,” Miranda said as Caroline and Cassidy stepped away. Miranda’s eyes swept around the room, but she saw no one. “I thought I heard another voice…” she stated.

She had just come from speaking with the Headmistress, who had given Miranda her daughters’ class schedule, and she had decided to check at their last class before making her way to their sleeping quarters in the Ravenclaw dormitory. Close to the classroom she had heard her daughters’ excited voices, and the voice of an adult—surely their professor. Then, she had felt the oddest sensation.

When she had heard that female voice, her body had reacted. A bolt of electricity had raced through her body, heating her up and making her pause for breath. That voice. So familiar, so alluring. If not for the commanding intonation, she would have believed she was overhearing Andrea’s melodic voice. But no. That could not be. Obviously, she had been thinking of the elusive journalist too much lately.

“That was Professor McGonagall. Where’d she go?” Caroline asked in surprise as she looked around.

“Her stuff is gone. She must have left to give us some privacy,” Cassidy said.

“Stuff?” Miranda said with disdain. “Has this school not taught you proper vocabulary? Honestly, the caliber of instruction has lessened so significantly over the years, it is a wonder that you can piece together a coherent sentence.”

“Mo-om!” Cassidy moaned while rolling her eyes. “I meant she has taken her teaching materials. Okay?”

Miranda nodded absently. She had felt this energy before, this heightened sense of awareness. She could practically smell the magical energy of a powerful being—Professor McGonagall, no doubt. She wondered how she did not know her. Surely the woman must have attended Hogwarts, and they must be close in age. In fact, she knew nothing about the Headmistress’s niece. It was odd, really. She wondered whether the Headmistress had placed a Fidelius charm or some type of disillusionment charm around her family tree to prevent others from knowing too much about her relatives.

Miranda was aware that the Headmistress’s wife was the youngest faculty member in the history of Hogwart’s, and although normally she would question the quality of education given by such a young witch, even she—while surrounded by Muggles and to a great extent ignorant of wizarding affairs—had heard of the Golden Trio and of Hermione’s skills. She knew her girls were not suffering by learning Transfiguration from such a vibrant, youthful witch.

“Mom, why are you here?” Caroline asked.

Miranda pulled her thoughts away from her mysterious reactions to the energy she still felt in the room and refocused on a pair of inquisitive looks. “Let’s sit down. I am sure your elusive professor will not mind if we discuss matters here, and I would rather not be overheard by your classmates.”

Settling herself in a chair, Miranda took the time to look around classroom 2E, located on the third floor of the castle. It appeared virtually the same as when she had taken Charms so many years ago. Dark hardwood floors, oak-paneled walls, and four long, sturdy wooden desks—the room spoke of tradition, hard work, and elemental teachings. Two sets of tables lined either side of the room, an aisle separating them. The second row of tables was elevated so that everyone could see. Located against one wall was a working fireplace, and at the front was the professor’s desk, covered with books and papers. Behind the desk, beside the desk, and against the back walls books were stacked neatly. The class easily accommodated fifty students at a time. Smiling slightly, she noticed the current assignment—levitation charms. She took her time, allowing her mind and body to settle as her eyes perused all the details she hadn’t realized she had missed so much.

With a silent sigh, she admitted to herself that she often did not allow herself to reflect on the past. Yet, change was in the air, and her old ways of dealing with loss, wrong decisions, and missed opportunities were no longer acceptable. Truthfully, they never had been—she had just been too stubborn to admit it. Oh, how she would behave differently if their Charms professor were Andrea!

Turning her eyes to her impatient daughters, fidgeting as they waited for Miranda to explain her presence, she could not stop her lips from turning upward with a small smile. It had been several months since she had last spent time with her daughters. She had missed them.

Miranda studied her daughters closely and was again amazed at how mature they were. Both had allowed their red hair to grow down to the middle of their backs, and their blue eyes, so like her own, sparked with curiosity and excitement. Judging from their grades and the honors they had earned over the years, they were well on their way to becoming outstanding additions to the wizarding community. Although she wanted to question them on their plans after graduation, that would have to wait.

“The Ministry of Magic contacted me yesterday regarding a matter of great importance.” Miranda stopped, staring into Caroline’s and then Cassidy’s eyes, wanting them to understand the gravity of the situation. “My expertise is required to deal with a threat not just to the wizarding world but also to the Muggle world.” She saw their eyes widen and their mouths open to unleash what she was sure would be countless questions. Quickly, she raised a hand to stop the onslaught of words. “Wait. Let me finish.”

“Much of the information is confidential, but I suspect it will take some time to deal with this matter. Dragons are dangerous, and we only have a few people who are gifted enough to interact with them and remain alive. They have been attacking some of the outlying areas.” Miranda paused, her mind working furiously. “It is odd,” she said slowly, “for dragons to seek out people, to attack them. Normally they are content to remain in the wilderness, among the higher mountain ranges where they can live without our interference.”

“Will you be in danger?” Cassidy asked, worry pushing her voice to a higher register.

Smiling reassuringly at her daughters, Miranda said, “It is possible, but I will be as careful as possible. Some of the best witches and wizards will be helping me as we deal with the problem. I am afraid, however, that I must cancel our vacation plans to visit the Bahamas.” Miranda looked apologetically at her daughters. “I highly doubt I will finish with my business here by the end of the week.”

“Don’t worry about that, Mom,” Caroline said. “We need to study for N.E.W.T.s anyway. We’ll either stay here or at the townhouse.”

“I’d rather you remain here. It is safer,” Miranda said. “I will visit. In fact, I suspect I will be seeing you quite a bit. Feel free to send me messages by owl to the townhouse, or you can fire-call. Also, the Ministry has connected the floo network to the house in order to facilitate my travels, but do not come over without my permission.” She looked sternly at them. “Times are dangerous, and with my being here to deal with the dragons, it is possible others will seek to harm me through you.”

Noticing their grim expressions, Miranda felt a twinge of guilt. Even here her reputation placed them in the public eye. For a while her precious daughters had lived without her reputation hanging over their heads while no connection was made between Princhek and Priestly, but she could not afford to take any chances. “I am sorry,” she whispered.

Two sets of loving arms surrounded her, pulling her into a protracted hug. Miranda fought to retain her composure, closing her eyes to soak in their affection.

Once they pulled away, she stood up and rearranged her robes. “Well then. Please keep this information to yourselves.” She paused to gaze lovingly at them. “I trust you implicitly, but the same cannot be said for your classmates. Now, the Headmistress has invited me to eat dinner in the Great Hall. Perhaps afterward you can show me your sleeping quarters?” she asked, her eyes flitting up to see their nods of affirmation. “Shall we g—” Miranda’s words stalled as she heard an office door located at the back of the room open and close. Looking up, her world slowed down as her vision tunneled, focusing solely on two chocolate-colored eyes laced with shock.

“Andrea,” Miranda whispered.

Miranda stood frozen, her eyes drinking in Andrea’s sudden appearance. Resplendent in rich dark-blue robes that emphasized her bottomless dark eyes and silky brunette hair which was currently swept back into a loose bun, Andrea exuded power and maturity. Nonetheless, Andrea appeared as stunned as Miranda felt, and that calmed Miranda’s nerves. While maintaining Andrea’s gaze, Miranda directed softly, “Girls, go on without me. I will see you at dinner.”

In a matter of moments Caroline and Cassidy had crossed the room and exited. Miranda watched as Andrea raised her wand toward the door and murmured several spells, locking it and making the room impenetrable. Miranda raised an eyebrow.

“So that we will not be disturbed while we talk,” Andrea said.

That voice reminded Miranda of just who was standing across the room gazing at her with an expression that looked very much like longing. She also saw trepidation, fear, and worry. “You are Minerva McGonagall’s niece?” Miranda asked. She winced, knowing her voice sounded condescending and incredulous. She had not meant to begin the conversation quite this way, but this entire situation confounded her. Miranda had just found out not even a week ago that Andrea was in London, and now, it seemed, Andrea was the wonderful Charms Master her daughters had raved about over the last several months.

“Yes,” Andrea answered. Silence took up residence between them, preventing Miranda from approaching the younger woman or even releasing another word into the space filled with so many unanswered questions and unexplained events. “Your daughters are wonderful. They are bright and quick and—”

Andrea’s words broke the silence and Miranda’s incapacitation. “You just disappeared. No warning. No word of where you had gone,” Miranda accused, practically vibrating with anger and frustration.

“I did not realize it mattered to anyone. After I was laid off, I came here to spend time with my aunt and to strategize about my future. When she asked me to teach, I could think of no reason to refuse.” Andrea’s shrug irritated Miranda to no end.

Sputtering in indignation, Miranda strode toward Andrea, who bravely stood her ground. “No reason? _No reason_? How can you be so dense? So selfish?”

“I…I had no idea you were worried until Nigel mentioned it last week—”

“Worried? How absurd! I could not care less where you have been for the last five months, although your aunt should have notified me and all the other parents of your substitution as the Charms professor. Really, what could you possibly teach them?” Miranda stopped well within Andrea’s personal space and glared.

Andrea glared back, her righteous anger rearing up between them as brown eyes tried to skewer Miranda, who wondered why she was denying her concern, why she was baiting this powerful woman, and why she was practically panting as emotions rolled through her.

“Sure. You care so little and yet you know exactly how long I have been away from New York,” Andrea replied heatedly as she poked Miranda’s chest with an extended finger.

Immobilizing the finger by grabbing Andrea’s hand, Miranda pulled hard. Andrea’s body smashed into Miranda’s forcefully. Miranda held her ground and grabbed Andrea’s luscious hair at the nape, forcing her head back as Miranda scraped her teeth up the neck. Nipping an earlobe, Miranda whispered harshly. “You are so obtuse, so oblivious—” Andrea’s moan stopped her tirade and woke Miranda to the fact that the younger witch had not pulled away. In fact, she had grabbed the front of Miranda’s robes to steady herself and had not let go.

Miranda’s eyes raked over Andrea’s face, and her body erupted with passion at what she saw. Those narrowed eyes darkened by ardor, defined cheeks flushed with emotion, moistened lips parted to suck in air with shallow pants. She had promised herself not to make the same mistakes—why was she attempting to drive Andrea away? Using her other hand to cup Andrea’s stubborn chin, Miranda kissed her firmly.

And then her mind blanked out as desire overwhelmed her completely, stimulated by full lips moving against hers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hogwarts School, Scotland, Monday, April 7, 2014**

Minerva sat on the sofa with a sigh. Well, she had felt change in the air. How right her instincts were. Miranda Priestly, formerly known as Miriam Princhek, had left her office less than an hour ago, sweeping away as she had swept in—producing a wake as evident as if a boulder had been thrown into the Black Lake.

Hearing the door to her private rooms open, Minerva smiled softly. _Hermione_. She must have finished teaching. In an hour they would eat dinner in the Great Hall with the addition of Miranda, whom Minerva had invited to be their guest. Feeling Hermione’s presence behind her Minerva leaned her head back against the sofa and moaned softly when competent hands began to massage her shoulders. Such magical hands.

“Mmm, love. I am glad you are back,” Minerva rumbled, her voice low as she felt their bond thrum through her. Soft lips brushed the side of her neck, and Minerva moaned her approval. Arms found their way around her neck, loosely hugging her as teeth joined those addictive lips in eliciting reactions from her body. Minerva tilted her head to provide more access as her hands came up to cover Hermione’s smaller ones. Breathing in deeply, Minerva closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax, content to forget everything else, if only for a few glorious moments.

“What’s bothering you?” Hermione whispered near her ear. Minerva’s eyes flew open, and she sighed.

“You know me so well, Gràdh,” Minerva murmured. She lifted one of Hermione’s hands to her lips and kissed the knuckles gently. “Come join me, Hermione.”

Minerva turned to her wife as she settled herself on the sofa, noticing the worried expression. Grimacing, she rejoined their hands and focused on the bookcases across the room while gathering her thoughts. “I had a visitor today,” Minerva began. “It was Miranda Priestly.”

“Caroline and Cassidy’s mother was here? Why? Are they okay? Does Andy know?” Hermione interrupted.

Raising a hand to stem the flood of questions, Minerva felt herself smile even though the subject matter was quite serious. “Hermione,” she admonished quietly. Hermione’s contrite expression signaled that she was ready to listen. “You may recognize the name she was known by in the wizarding community: Miriam Princhek.” She watched with interest as the expression on Hermione’s face morphed into incredulity, quickly followed by excitement and then concern.

“What’s going on, Minerva?” Hermione asked quietly.

“What do you know of Miriam Princhek?” Minerva said.

“She is one of the most revered dragon masters of our time, if not ever. She studied with Scamander and was instrumental toward defeating Voldemort and his followers during the First Wizarding War. And then about thirty years ago she just disappeared.”

“Quite right. The Ministry of Magic reached out to her yesterday and asked her to return. They require her expertise to deal with a growing problem. Dragons are venturing out and attacking some of the hinterlands, seemingly without provocation. I am sure you know that Charlie Weasley was hurt just last month while attempting to corral a wayward Hungarian Horntail that had attacked a small village near the Malvern Hills. You remember the area?” Minerva asked coyly.

“Do I remember it?” Hermione chuckled. “Of course.” Minerva watched her wife’s eyes darken and cleared her throat. Now was not the time to become distracted.

“Yes. Well. As you know, that area is mostly wilderness and unpopulated. It is grazed by cattle and sheep, and the lower areas are dotted with farmland. And yet, even with all that livestock roaming around the countryside, the dragon sought out one of the farms and attacked the main house before traveling to a nearby village.”

Hermione’s gasp stopped Minerva’s narrative. “The reports mentioned none of this!”

“No, they did not. The Ministry thought it best not to bring attention to what they deemed to be an unusual occurrence. Only it has happened several more times over the past few weeks. Miranda Priestly is quickly becoming our only hope to stop the problem before dragons begin to attack more populous areas,” Minerva said.

“Wow. Andy is going to flip!” Minerva smiled wryly, turning her head away so Hermione would not see her response. “What?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

Sighing in resignation, Minerva admitted, “I believe Andrea will be seeing Miranda sooner rather than later. When Miranda left my office, she was off to see her daughters. They were just finishing their last class for the day—Charms.”

“I don’t suppose you warned Andy?” Hermione said dryly.

“It may have slipped my mind,” Minerva answered facetiously. She smiled when Hermione slapped her on the shoulder.

“You are horrible!” Hermione exclaimed. Minerva nodded agreeably.

“Absolutely. Particularly since I was the one to suggest to Kingsley that he contact Miriam.” Minerva turned toward Hermione. “She was one of my better students oh so long ago. Albus and I had tried to lure her into a teaching position here several times, but she preferred to work with the dragons. Nor did she desire to be accountable to anyone.”

“From the stories Andy has told, it doesn’t seem like much has changed. This ought to be interesting.”

“Yes. Interesting,” Minerva said, elongating the word just enough to make Hermione chuckle. Minerva’s expression became solemn once more. “We have enjoyed relative peace and quiet since Voldemort was defeated. I fear we have become too complacent. These attacks are too suspicious—too unusual. They are unnatural and point toward a greater danger we may have overlooked. I can feel it, Hermione. It is lurking, hiding in the shadows and orchestrating these increasingly dangerous confrontations.”

“You think something is provoking the dragons?” Hermione asked.

“Or someone. Several people, in fact. I cannot make sense of why the dragons would take such actions unless they were being threatened. Or controlled.” Sighing loudly, Minerva shook her head. “Well, if anyone can determine what is happening, why the dragons are acting in this way, it is Miriam. She used to be called the Dragon Whisperer. Somehow she was able to communicate with the dragons. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“In the Muggle world they have horse whisperers and even dog whisperers. Merlin, they’d flip if they ever heard the term Dragon Whisperer!” Hermione said.

Minerva hardly heard the comment as she fell into her thoughts, musing that Miriam may determine what the dragons’ motivations were but not how to convince them to stop their attacks. Minerva had already offered to help in any way, and she was sure that many others within the wizarding community would step up if needed. This worried her, since Hermione would undoubtedly insist that she provide any possible aid to resolve the threat. Dragons were powerful, dangerous creatures—Minerva did not want Hermione to be anywhere near them.

“There’s something you are not telling me,” Hermione said softly as she gently lifted Minerva’s chin with two fingers. Minerva stared into worried eyes and grimaced.

“I am worried, Hermione. This has the potential of becoming much worse. I do not want anyone to get hurt.” Minerva stopped talking, not wanting to voice her fears.

“You are afraid I will get hurt,” Hermione said confidently.

Her thumb brushed against Minerva’s cheek, reminding her that her chin was still cupped gently. She trembled as her eyelashes fluttered closed, not wanting to see those tawny brown eyes shining at her. They demanded the truth, and Minerva did not want to face it.

“Minerva, I have the same fears regarding your safety, I assure you. It is natural. I promise to be careful if it gets to the point where I become part of the solution. Okay?”

Minerva nodded but did not open her eyes. She could not.

A moment later soft lips brushed against hers, reassuring her that Hermione was right next to her and not elsewhere, hurt or dying. Minerva pulled Hermione toward her, wrapping her arms around her wife tightly as she initiated the next kiss. Again and again Minerva kissed Hermione, needing to feel her responses, her aliveness, her passion.

“Hermione,” Minerva groaned, not able to get close enough. She needed more.

“Shhh, my love. Let me take care of you,” Hermione crooned.

In a haze, Minerva did not quite understand what Hermione meant until nimble fingers opened her outer robe and cupped her breast. Gasping at the contact, she felt her body respond. As Hermione guided her into a prone position on the sofa, Minerva wrapped her legs around the younger witch to keep her close. She needed Hermione closer. Closer.

A gasp urged Minerva to open her eyes. She experienced the dual sensations of seeing Hermione’s glorious nude form undulating over her even as her fingers registered the silky skin flexing beneath them. Groaning loudly, Minerva lifted Hermione’s body up enough so that her lips could latch onto a hardened nipple. Desire pounded through her as she tasted the dark bud and sucked it strongly.

Grabbing her wand, now on the pile of clothes next to the sofa, Minerva muttered a spell to transform the sofa into a bed. She needed more room to maneuver. Before Hermione could react, Minerva flipped them and pinned her wife down as she tasted perspiring skin. Minerva hummed, sliding her lips over a collar bone to rest on Hermione’s pulse point. It fluttered wildly, and Minerva rejoiced.

Such goodness. Such passion. She couldn’t get enough. Could never get enough. Nearly fifteen years together, and Minerva felt as if they still had so much left to explore within their relationship.

Hermione’s shapely body thrust upward, but Minerva refused to be removed from her position. She realized she was not normally this aggressive, this dominant, but it was not the first time, and she knew Hermione trusted her implicitly. There had been times, particularly after harrowing experiences, when Minerva had felt insecurities rise up, the fear of losing this precious being overwhelming her, and such feelings had found release through this type of coupling—wild, uninhibited, raw.

She needed to feel powerful and in control. If only she could banish such undermining feelings as she had their clothes. But no. These feelings were primal. Not to be ignored. And Hermione knew just what to do. Instead of giving in easily, docilely, she fought like a spitfire and gave as good as she got. Minerva became more excited with that thought.

Nipping at the soft skin offered to her so freely, Minerva growled as she bit down hard enough to leave a mark. The low moan she heard urged her to continue even as Hermione twisted beneath her. “Do you want more?” Minerva whispered harshly against a flushed ear, nuzzling behind it and delivering teasing kisses. Hermione’s whimpers were not enough. “Tell me!” she commanded.

“More. Yes! More, Minerva. I need you so much. Please!” Hermione said in a raw voice as if her words were being ripped from her soul.

Without pause Minerva thrust two fingers into Hermione’s wetness, grinning in triumph at the proof of Hermione’s desire. She pushed harder with each thrust, twisting and rubbing as Hermione shouted out her responses.

“More? Do you want more?” Minerva asked heatedly, her mind already calling forth the desired spell.

“Yes! More!” Hermione answered breathlessly.

“Engorgio,” Minerva commanded and felt her fingers elongate and thicken. Wiggling her fingertips, she felt Hermione jolt as a long moan filled the air. Minerva had never dared try this before, but she wanted to fill Hermione as much as possible and still be able to feel Hermione’s responses around her fingers.

Hermione’s body glistened with sweat as she met every thrust with her body. Sliding down that addictive body, Minerva nudged Hermione’s legs apart with her shoulders and latched on to Hermione’s swollen clit firmly. Hermione’s gyrations increased as she neared her climax, and Minerva pounded her fingers in and out faster as she unrelentingly sucked on the cluster of sensitive nerves. Hermione’s body froze, hovering above the bed, and Minerva took the opportunity to slip a finger between flexing buttock cheeks as she continued with her other ministrations.

The effect was immediate. A scream, the likes of which she had never heard issued by her lover, ripped through the air, and Minerva might have become nervous if not for the forceful thrusts Hermione began, impaling herself deeper with each motion on the newest stimulus while Minerva continued to pound into her from the front. Turning her head slightly, Minerva nipped at the enlarged clit, earning an animalistic shout, and then sucked on it as her tongue poked at the nerve center forcefully.

It was times like these when Minerva wished she had more hands or an extra mouth. She wanted to do so much more, to own this woman’s body, to make it overload in ecstasy. She felt Hermione’s heated body contracting around her fingers and lightly scraped her teeth against the stimulated nub, hearing Hermione wail as the next orgasm roared through her. Minerva softened her movements immediately, helping Hermione’s body come down off the physical high with soothing finger movements and soft suckling. When Hermione settled onto the bed entirely exhausted, Minerva withdrew her fingers gently. “Reducio,” she muttered before joining Hermione and pulling her into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” Minerva murmured as tears tracked down her face. “You are so precious to me. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Hermione answered before their lips met in a languid kiss which continued endlessly. Wet, deep, erotic—Minerva lost her thoughts, her fears, everything was banished by these kisses except desire. And love.

Unlike Minerva’s wild ministrations, Hermione made love to her as if she were the most priceless, fragile flower. Soft, sweeping hand strokes and thorough, endless kisses brought Minerva to her climax without her quite realizing it. With the release came more tears, but she was no longer afraid. This incredible woman, her soul mate, would remain by her side regardless of the circumstances.

Many would attest that they were a formidable team. So they were. They would face this latest challenge as they had met so many others—together.

Gentle fingers traveled across her cheek and down the column of her neck, resting on a collar bone. “Love, we must get ready for dinner,” a tender voice said.

Sighing with pleasure, Minerva opened her eyes, realizing she had fallen asleep, and rested them on her disheveled wife, noticing the swollen lips, reddened neck, and flushed chest. She looked glorious. Minerva felt passion surge forth as she reached for Hermione.

“Uh, uh, ah!” Hermione said as she pulled back, a teasing smile on face. “Later, I promise. You invited Miranda to dinner, though, and it would look rather odd for you to not appear.”

Frowning, Minerva conceded silently that Hermione was correct. “Later, then,” she growled and arose. Stretching her arms over her head, Minerva’s keen hearing caught a whimper and she smirked. Yes, definitely more would occur later.

Soon after showering and changing, they arrived at the Great Hall and made their way to the faculty table. The hall had begun to fill up, and the noise level indicated carefree students whose only concerns were exams and essays.

Minerva gazed around the Great Hall calmly, noticing the Priestly twins talking animatedly as they began to eat their dinner. A smile threatened her placid features, but Minerva was well-versed in hiding her emotions while on display.

She did note the absence of one faculty member, however. Andrea Sachs McGonagall, her only niece, was notably absent. As was Minerva’s esteemed guest, Miranda Priestly. Biting the inside of her lower lip, Minerva reminded herself firmly not to smile.

Instead, she purred.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hogwarts School, Scotland, Monday, April 7, 2014**

It took a moment to register that Miranda Priestly, the woman who had just finished insulting her ability to teach Charms class at Hogwarts, was kissing her so ferociously that she was bent backward over her desk, only Miranda’s arm around her waist preventing her from falling on to it. _Good Lord, can this woman kiss!_ It shouldn’t have surprised her. Miranda applied the same level of focus and determination in this moment that she applied to _Runway_.

The results were astounding.

A forceful tongue pushed through Andy’s parted lips and tasted every inch of her mouth. Andy groaned as her body trembled. She was losing control, submitting to Miranda’s passion, and Andy refused to give in so easily. They were equals. Andy would not allow the same dichotomy that had formed between them so many years ago to continue.

 _We are equals!_ Andy’s mind raged. Feeling Miranda pull back, Andy straightened up and promptly ignored the flash of confusion in Miranda’s blue eyes, taking the opportunity to begin her own passionate onslaught. Pushing Miranda backward, Andy’s lips attacked ivory skin. She guided Miranda toward one of the long student tables and pinned her against it, pressing into Miranda’s body closely.

Andy’s hands skated over the defined planes of Miranda’s back before landing on tightened buttocks. She squeezed the luscious globes, stopping the moan issued through those oftentimes cruel lips by capturing them with her own.

How many years had she dreamt of tasting those lips, sucking on that sharp tongue, forcing Miranda to yield. To lose control. To beg for her touch. To admit to feeling the connection that thrummed between them? Feeling fingers pulling on her robes, Andy ripped her lips away as she muttered, “Depulso,” and waved a hand toward a chair. Better. Their robes were off, allowing her to feel the contours of Miranda’s body more easily.

Obviously noticing the removal of their robes, Miranda took the time to look at Andy’s clothes. She wore a tight, navy-colored, long-sleeved, cashmere Chanel tunic, hip-hugging True Religion jeans, and black, ankle-high, Gucci boots. Andy grinned at Miranda’s raised eyebrow.

Miranda wore all black: a long-sleeved, silk Prada top, Armani slacks, and Christian Louboutin studded, platform boots that made Andy’s mouth water. Andy felt her facial muscles slacken as she continued to stare. God, she looked sexy. Even her knowing smirk was sensual.

“I see you haven’t forgotten all your lessons from working _under_ me,” Miranda purred suggestively, her stare arrested by the sight of Andy’s chest. Cursing at how apparent her arousal was, Andy fought the urge to cross her arms over her breasts.

“That was a long time ago,” Andy growled.

“Hmmm. And yet soon you will be working under me again,” Miranda stated, a predatory glint in her eyes as her fingers flicked Andy’s hardened nipples. Andy gasped.

“I don’t think so,” Andy bit out. At Miranda’s angry look, Andy grabbed Miranda’s face and began to plunder that irresistible mouth, not interested in arguing. Or submitting. She felt Miranda pulling her shirt from the waist of her jeans roughly, and a moment later cool fingers moved over Andy’s ribs to cover her breasts. Whimpering at the sensation, Andy ran her fingers through Miranda’s hair, holding her head still as their tongues wrestled.

Not content, Andy slid her hands down Miranda’s back, massaging the taut muscles, and slipped her hands inside Miranda’s pants to cup silk-encased skin. She simply loved Miranda’s ass. She pulled Miranda into her as she placed a leg between the older woman’s legs, nearly crying out at how hot Miranda’s center felt against her thigh even through their clothing. Andy felt Miranda shudder and kept up the motions, thinking furiously, _You will submit to me._ Miranda’s long, plaintive moan encouraged Andy to continue moving Miranda against her.

Miranda ripped her mouth away and pushed Andy’s top up, sucking on Andy’s nipple through the bra even as her fingers found the clasp and unfastened it. Miranda was voracious, chewing and pulling on one nipple before attacking the other one while Andy tried not to fall down. She mewled, beside herself with need as Miranda continued to torture her breasts with mouth and hands.

However, Andy was determined to drive Miranda just as crazy. She lifted Miranda onto the table and stepped in between her legs, pressing tightly while running her hands up the inside of her quivering thighs. Miranda wrapped her legs around Andy’s waist and looked up through lowered lashes.

“I want your clothes off immediately,” Miranda demanded.

Smiling deviously, Andy muttered the banishing spell. They gasped simultaneously as their nude bodies moved together. She could feel the proof of Miranda’s excitement painting her abdomen, feeding her desire to make this woman hers. Their lips met again, mouths open as their tongues slid together. Andy placed two fingers at Miranda’s entrance and waited. Miranda would have to indicate she wanted this.

Miranda’s hands pulled Andy’s lower body impossibly closer, and she ground her center against Andy’s belly. Groaning loudly, Andy barely controlled herself from pushing her fingers inside Miranda’s glorious body. _Stop fighting me! Submit! Say it!_ Andy begged silently, needing Miranda to yield, needing for them to be equals, finally.

“Please, Andrea.” The words, raw and desire-laden, thrilled Andy. She entered Miranda slowly, so slowly, feeling every glorious inch as the walls surrounding her fingers contracted. When up to her knuckles, she twisted them slowly and began to withdraw them just as slowly.

Miranda sat motionless, body tensed as her hands clenched Andy’s shoulders, her head tossed back and eyes closed tightly. She looked like the epitome of wantonness. Andy felt herself clench at the sight. Methodically, Andy pushed in and out, taking her time, feeling Miranda’s orgasm building. In this instance, moving at a glacial pace was seemingly Miranda’s preference.

“More,” Miranda pleaded, her voice hoarse.

“Do you want me to fill you up, Miranda?” Andy whispered as she nipped an ear. “Do you want to feel me, really feel me?”

“Yes!”

“Engorgio.” Andy felt a sharp pain as she watched her clitoris lengthen and thicken. She saw Miranda’s eyes widen in wonder.

“My God!” Miranda choked.

Andy removed her fingers and guided herself to the entrance. As she slid in, she closed her eyes tightly. Sensations overwhelmed her, and she feared she would come right then. Stilling, Andy felt the contractions pulling her in deeper, and she opened her eyes to meet glowing black pupils, ringed with small bands of blue. Sweat broke out all over her body as heat roiled through her. Grabbing Miranda’s hips, Andy began thrusting deeply, not breaking their stare. _Do you feel me? I am inside you. I am making you feel this way. Only I can do this._

“Yes!” Miranda shouted, her hands pulling at Andy’s waist, fingernails raking across her buttocks.

Picking up speed, Andy tilted her pelvis to push in deeper and felt Miranda meeting each thrust. Grunts filled the air, accentuated by breathless shrieks and constant moans.

“Ah, ahhh, Anndreeeeaaaa!” Miranda screamed, her body slapping against Andy as she climaxed.

Andy keep thrusting, feeling the exquisite contractions around her clit pulling her deeper. It made her burn—the feeling on the edge of pleasure and pain. She jabbed her finger at Miranda’s clitoris and shouted out as she felt Miranda’s inner muscles grip her powerfully. “Miranda!” Andy cried out as she felt a strong orgasm overwhelm her. Miranda’s second climax occurred right after hers, and Andy leaned in, tucking her head into the crook of Miranda’s neck while breathing in deeply desperately needed air several times.

Feeling a hand run through her sweaty locks, Andy fought back tears. _I waited so long. Wanted this for so long._ Never had she believed that Miranda would want her. Hands gently framed her face and pushed her back so they could stare at each other. Miranda’s eyes flitted over Andy’s face for several moments before she leaned in to kiss Andy.

Once the intoxicating kiss broke, Andy pulled out of Miranda gently. Before she could decide what to do next, Miranda hopped off the desk and kneeled before her, taking the shaft in her hand firmly. She looked at Andy as her thumb rubbed back and forth. “I’ve wanted this, too, for longer than you would believe.”

Miranda stared upward as she slowly drew Andy into her mouth, sucking her in as much as possible. Andy felt the warmth surround her, such hot, hot wetness, and groaned loudly. Although she wanted to close her eyes, she would not have broken their gaze even if a class of first-years had stampeded into the room. Her hips jerked when Miranda’s fingers began circling her opening. “Oooh, ah, ah, oh.” Andy could no longer control her body.

 _I’m yours_ , she thought hazily, ignoring the victorious look in Miranda’s eyes as she was swiftly entered by three of Miranda’s fingers.

It took only moments before Andy screamed in ecstasy. She could feel Miranda’s tongue swirling around her shaft, causing her to shiver as aftershocks spread from that wicked tongue up her spine. She realized that strong fingers were supporting her lower back, massaging slowly. Staring down at the magnificent creature kneeling before her, Andy felt tenderness rush through her, accented by a healthy dose of lust.

Gently Miranda pulled her fingers out as she kissed Andy’s bobbing clit softly. She sucked her fingers clean while holding Andy’s stare, then smiled widely. “You are addictive,” Miranda pronounced in a husky voice, licking her lips provocatively. She rose gracefully and stood before Andy.

“Reducio,” Andy said and felt her body conform to its normal shape.

“That’s an interesting spell,” Miranda drawled. “Use it often?”

Startled, Andy squeaked. “What? No!” Miranda nodded, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Where did you learn it?”

“There’s a book in the restricted section of the library called _Spells to Improve Your Sex Life_. I was curious.” Andy shrugged, a bit embarrassed.

“Hmm. Well. I am looking forward to seeing what else you have learned from that book,” Miranda said as she ran a finger over Andy’s collar bones. Andy trembled, her mind jumping to several other interesting spells she had found.

“Your aunt invited me to dinner. I need to clean up,” Miranda said softly. Nodding, Andy turned to their stacked clothes and handed Miranda’s articles to her silently. “You can shower in my quarters.” Andy pointed behind her desk. “My private rooms are behind my office.” She looked at Miranda and gently used her finger to move her signature forelock to the side. Andy did not wish for this moment to end. She loved that they were both sweaty and reeked of sex and hated the idea that they would never share this type of intimacy again.

After another moment of gazing into Miranda’s cool blue eyes, Andy led the way to her personal rooms. She allowed Miranda to shower first, knowing better than to indulge in a shared shower even though she salivated at the thought of seeing water slide over that beautiful body. Before they left her rooms, Andy asked quietly, “May I see you later?”

Miranda’s apologetic look said it all. “I must spend time with my girls and leave before curfew. Then I will be gone for a few days. As you will no doubt hear at dinner, the Ministry of Magic requested I look into the increasingly concerning problem with dragons attacking humans.”

Andy tried not to show her disappointment. _What did you expect? Stupid!_

“What is this?” Miranda asked suddenly.

Looking over, Andy saw that Miranda was standing next to her desk where a three-inch block of blue chalcedony rested. It was loosely in the shape of a dragon, but the details were only half-completed.

“Oh. Um. Shit!” Andy said as she strode across the room and grabbed the object. Silently she banished the item to her bedroom. Looking up, she met Miranda’s stare. She saw just when Miranda made the connection, and she cringed in apprehension.

“You! You have been sending me those dragons for all these years!” Miranda said incredulously. “Did you know about my abilities?”

“No! I just, well, you are called the Dragon Lady, and, I don’t know, it seemed appropriate. I like dragons…” Andy petered off as her eyes swung everywhere, as if looking for escape. _Oh Jesus! She wasn’t supposed to know. I just needed to connect with her somehow, acknowledge her birthday. Let her know she was special to someone._

After a pregnant pause, Miranda spoke in such a tender voice, it brought tears to Andy’s eyes. “You made them for me year after year without seeking any response.”

Andy dropped her head toward the floor and shifted restlessly from foot to foot.

“How did you do it? Did you transfigure solid blocks of crystal?” Miranda asked.

Andy looked up, scandalized. “No! If I did that they would revert back once I died.” Andy shook her head. “I used different stones, depending on the dragon. Like onyx for the Hebridean Black dragon. I transform the stone, one molecule at a time. That’s why it takes so long. And if you touch any of them with your wand, it will become animated.” She noted Miranda’s tilted head and shining eyes. Miranda seemed touched. _Maybe she did like them._

“I love them, Andrea,” Miranda stated softly. She stepped forward into Andy’s personal space and laid a hand on her chest over her heart. “Each one is so detailed and different. You have quite an understanding of them. The Welch Green Dragon is particularly impressive. They are so elusive—I am surprised you have seen one.”

“I haven’t. I haven’t seen most of the ones I made. I used my imagination. I just, I usually close my eyes and allow the magic to flow through me. The end result is often a surprise to me. I—I’m glad you like them,” Andy said.

“I do. Very much. Thank you.” Miranda stepped closer and brushed her lips against Andy’s mouth fleetingly. Then she moved in so that their bodies pressed against one another and delivered a firmer kiss. “I do.” With one last penetrating stare, Miranda swept through the door.

They walked in the Great Hall silently, both lost in thought. Once they entered, Andy noticed the dip in conversation. Dinner was in full swing, and students peered curiously at their visitor as they made their way to the faculty table.

Andy’s thoughts were in a whirlwind throughout the meal. She did not engage in conversation, preferring to listen as Aunt Minerva, Hermione, and the other professors talked to Miranda. She learned why Miranda was here, and Andy wondered what Miranda intended to do. Admittedly, Andy did not know much about dragons, even though she had always admired the awe-inspiring, cunning beasts.

One day years ago, Aunt Minerva had brought her to Romania to see a gorgeous blood-red Antipodean Opaleye. That breed of dragon was known to not kill humans. It had beautiful, multi-colored eyes and scales that winked in the sunlight. Andy had felt an affinity for the intelligent animal. Not that she hadn’t kept close to her aunt, just in case. The razor-sharp teeth, leathery skin, and long claws had fascinated Andy. Best of all, Andy had witnessed the dragon extending its wings fully, taking her breath away with the immensity and strength displayed. Andy never had forgotten that day.

A hand on Andy’s arm turned her attention toward Hermione. “Are you coming by tonight?” she asked.

“No. Not tonight,” Andy murmured. She withstood Hermione’s searching stare and was grateful when she did not press the issue. Andy’s eyes strayed over to Miranda, now standing next to her daughters at the Ravenclaw table. She watched them exit the hall and sighed softly.

“Miranda will be leaving tomorrow morning, and I suspect she shall be away for a few days. Will you come for tea tomorrow night?” Aunt Minerva asked.

Turning her head toward her aunt, she acknowledged the invitation with a nod. “Thank you.” Andy said, grateful not only for the invitation but also for confirmation of the information Miranda had given her earlier. It wasn’t that she mistrusted Miranda, but she knew that the older woman kept much to herself.

“Of course,” her aunt responded with a small smile. “Good night, then.”

“Good night,” Andy replied.

Perhaps she could discuss the animagus training with her aunt tomorrow. And with Hermione, for that matter. Andy felt she was truly fortunate to be in the company of two such accomplished animagi. If anyone could help her reach that next level of mastery, they could. Tonight, though, she would get a good night’s rest. She had much to think about. Her life had changed irrevocably in merely one day. Who knew what the morrows would bring?


	6. Chapter 6

**Princhek townhouse, London Tuesday, April 8, 2014**

Miranda sipped her coffee as she reviewed the information provided to her by Minister Shacklebolt. He had told her all he knew about the recent dragon attacks, the memories extracted from the witnesses before false memories had been implanted in the Muggles’ minds, and theories on why the dragons were attacking. Not that any of the given motivations were plausible. It amazed her how little he and most others within the wizarding community knew about the majestic creatures. No. They would not attack without provocation. She was sure of it.

She needed to track down at least one of the dragons responsible for the attacks. If she could just get close enough, she was certain she would get to the bottom of the mystery.

After using scourgify and a banishing charm to clean and send her mug to the kitchen, Miranda allowed her eyes to wander to the display case across the room. On several glass shelves sat the dragons Andrea had gifted to her on her birthdays. Eight breath-taking reflections of great prowess at transforming objects. Months’ worth of dedication toward each vision, each tangible proof of Andrea’s affection, exposed through superb craftsmanship. It astounded her that Andrea did not know much about dragons. Her attention to detail was dazzling.

Crossing to the display, Miranda lifted her wand and tapped the Hebridean Black. It swished its tail languidly while tossing its ebony head back. The black scales glistened as they rippled. Bright purple eyes glowered at Miranda, and a long plume of fire shot from its mouth. Miranda jumped back, startled, and laughed.

Peering at the disgruntled dragon, Miranda smiled. _Quite life-like, indeed_. Deciding to be cautious, Miranda summoned a fire-retardant material. Waving her wand she lifted all the figures, and levitated the padding into place. The active dragon roared as she gently placed them back on the shelf. Sniffing curiously at the material, the Hebridean dug into it with sharp claws before wrapping its tail around its flank and settling down.

Mightily tempted to see how the other dragons would act, Miranda stood staring at the dragon sculptures for several more moments before mentally shaking herself. _I don’t have time for this!_

Miranda forced herself to turn away after tapping the dragon with her wand to inanimate it. She swept through her home, her cloak swirling behind her as she prepared to apparate to the Malvern Hills. She knew she wouldn’t find any dragons, but she might be able to determine which dragon had attacked the area.

Breathing in deeply and expelling slowly, Miranda visualized her destination and apparated near the edge of a rocky outcrop high above the rolling hills. Looking around, Miranda took a moment to extend her senses. She could feel no dragons nearby. She saw the ruined farmhouse and ripped up patches of earth down below. That would be her first stop. Miranda cast a disillusionment spell over her cloak and made her way over the rocky ground quickly.

Once near the buildings, she said, “Homenum revelio.” It would not do to be careless. The spell revealed that no humans were nearby. Relieved, Miranda studied the scorch marks on the farmhouse, the destruction of a portion of the barn roof, and the deep indentations in the rich dirt. Miranda kept her senses on high alert, just in case someone wandered onto the farm. Although the disillusionment charm she had cast on her cloak would go a long way toward hiding her from others, it was not foolproof. Crouching near one set of indentations, Miranda placed her hand above it, feeling the energy.

Pulling back her hand quickly, Miranda rested on her haunches, stunned. _It couldn’t be!_ Miranda cocked her head and followed the ripped up ground with her eyes. She needed more proof. Grimly, Miranda studied the perimeter, searching for any detritus left by the dragon: scales, claws, horns, blood, even dung would help her to confirm incontrovertibly the identity of the dragon responsible for attacking the farm.

Several hours later, Miranda rested against a shady tree near a large body of water. Springtime hikers walked on a nearby trail, and Miranda remained still. It was possible that the disillusionment charm she had placed on her cloak was still keeping her hidden from unwanted eyes. Regardless, she chose to not draw attention to herself just in case the charm had faded and she could be seen.

After the people passed, Miranda clasped her hands together on her lap and pondered what she had found. Dragon dung, several drops of dragon blood, and a part of a copper-toned dragon scale. A Peruvian Vipertooth. Testing on her collected specimens would confirm her suspicion, but she was confident with her guess. This was extremely bad news.

Although known to be the smallest breed of dragons, they were quick and sneaky. Their fangs were venomous, and they were able to hide fairly easily since they only grew to be fifteen feet. Most distressingly, they had a craving for human flesh. At one point during the nineteenth century they had become a large threat to the wizarding and Muggle populations, and the Ministry had been forced to thin out that breed’s numbers to ensure everyone’s safety.

Where did the dragon come from? Where was it now? Had all the attacks been made by this one dragon?

Miranda’s gut told her that was not the case. And if several different dragon species were involved, it made the attacks even more suspect. Looking around one last time, Miranda stood and readied to disapparate away from the area. It was becoming late in the day, and she was tired. She needed to reduce her observations to writing and confirm the identity of the dragon by conducting certain charms on the specimens she had collected.

Mentally preparing herself, she visualized the wards protecting her home shifting, allowing her to apparate directly into the front room. With a cracking noise, she arrived safely. She stood rigidly, willing her body to settle as the roll of nausea receded—an inconvenient consequence of apparating. Taking some deep breaths, Miranda swept her gaze around the room and smiled slightly at the sight of her faithful house elf. Santie reached up to take Miranda’s outerwear and, after nodding respectfully, left.

Miranda moved to the den and carefully laid out her specimens, casting spell after spell to confirm the dragon type’s identity, knowing that her instincts were correct but needing hard proof to present to the Minister. Finally, she sat back with a sigh. She sipped her steaming tea, and silently thanked Santie for her care. Stretching her back, Miranda moaned as muscles twinged, a reminder of her passionate encounter with Andrea the day before.

Pushing such thoughts away brutally, Miranda refocused on her task. She had established unequivocally that a Peruvian Vipertooth had attacked the farm. Throwing some floo powder into the roaring fireplace, Miranda threw her written report into it and stated firmly, “Kingsley Shacklebolt, Ministry of Magic.” She stared at the fire, allowing her tired mind to settle. Andrea’s face, filled with passion, swam before her eyes. Taking a shuddering breath, Miranda refrained from floo-calling the enticing witch. Oh, but how she wanted to see her, if only for a moment.

 _Tomorrow. I will speak with her tomorrow_ , Miranda promised herself. It would be a reward after another hard day’s work. With that thought, Miranda retired for the evening. Tomorrow promised to be another trying day. She was certain that the next site she planned to visit would reveal more evidence that a great evilness was behind the dragon attacks. That sobering thought kept sleep out of reach as she consoled herself with memories of Andrea’s luscious body throughout the restless night.

The next morning, Miranda grimly prepared to apparate to the next attack site. Visualizing the place, Miranda felt the pull under her belly button as she transported to a wooded area.

Several scorched trees led Miranda toward another damaged structure in another rural area. She made sure to apply the disillusionment charm over herself before venturing into the open area between the copse of trees and the farm structures. The events of that attack were similar to the Peruvian Vipertooth attack. No warning. No known reason for it.

It took several hours, but Miranda found enough proof to reveal the dragon at fault: a Hungarian Horntail. With black scales, a spiked tail, and bronze horns protruding from its head, this dragon’s strength and power were awe-inspiring. It’s most dangerous feature, though, was its ability to breathe fire fifty feet across an expanse at extremely high temperatures.

Different dragons. All attacks on farmland in the UK—two attacks in England and the other two in Scotland.

With a feeling of dread, Miranda studied the piece of nail she had found embedded in a downed tree. The claw was razor sharp, and Miranda took the time to apply a charm on it so that she could transport it without worrying about cutting herself inadvertently. Just to be safe she applied the same charm on the horn shaving. It resembled a shank, and if she were not careful, it could be just as deadly.

Noticing how late it was, Miranda apparated to her home. Santie took one look at her and reached up to receive the dirty cloak. Miranda had tramped through enough dirt and debris to stain all her clothes. Looking down with a grimace, she admitted to herself that she had made a good decision to wear the Marc Jacobs’ jeans, Yves Saint Laurent pullover, and black Coach boots. It was as dressed down as she ever got. She had some very rare pieces made of dragon’s hide that she had not worn outdoors in decades. At least she would be able to wear them while in the wizarding world.

Yesterday, while mucking around the countryside, Miranda had been reminded of how different this line of work was compared to the world of fashion. It tickled her to think that in both worlds she was known as the Dragon Lady. Andrea’s face flittered through her mind, and she closed her eyes for just a moment, allowing herself the indulgence.

“May Is prepare yous dinner?” Santie asked sweetly, causing Miranda’s eyes to flutter open.

“Yes, thank you, Santie. I will take a shower and change,” Miranda murmured as she headed for the stairs. She hardly tasted the food once she settled down to eat. Her mind dwelled on what she had found and the implications attached. Why were the dragons attacking? Why now?

Miranda moved to her den and poured herself a glass of port. She sat down in a comfortable wingback chair and silently appreciated Santie’s thoughtfulness with starting a fire to ward off the evening chill. She watched the flames flickering as she planned her next actions. She would visit the other two locations where the dragons had attacked. Verify her findings. Visit the dragon reserves. Report her findings. Just as she had yesterday and today. _Then what?_

This would not be an easily resolved matter. It stunk of darkness and evil intent. _Who was behind such attacks? Who had the power to control or at least to provoke the dragons to commit such actions?_

Dragons were not stupid creatures—they had learned from the Peruvian Vipertooth population reduction debacle. Dragons normally kept to themselves, stealing livestock from time to time but generally steering clear of humans.

In addition, several dragon reserves cared for and kept track of the different species of dragons. The Romanian Dragon Sanctuary was by far the largest of the reserves. She would be paying them a visit this week to ask questions and reacquaint herself with the dragons. Miranda felt adrenalin shoot through her. She looked forward to interacting with the majestic beasts once more.

Idly, Miranda’s gaze roamed the room, landing on the miniature dragon statues Andrea had gifted to her. _Andrea._ What was it about the woman? After the other day, Miranda could no longer deny her feelings. She was absolutely captivated.

Soft skin. Silky mane. Toned muscles. Miles of legs. That mouth. Those fingers. Mesmerizing eyes. Unforgettable cries. Miranda shivered as arousal coursed through her.

Although she knew she could not afford to become distracted, her heart cried out. She wanted to spend more time with Andrea. Needed to taste that goodness, feel that body against hers. Perhaps in a few days. Slightly mollified by her self-made bargain, Miranda approached the dragon statues.

Tapping the Hungarian Horntail with her wand, Miranda stepped to the side, just dodging the forceful expulsion of flames that extended out across the room. _If only you could tell me why the dragons are attacking humans_ , Miranda thought while watching the Horntail sniff the air. Hearing a chuffing noise, Miranda cocked her head curiously. The animated dragon watched her just as closely as it walked toward the edge of the glass shelf.

A booming voice erupted in Miranda’s mind, nearly knocking her down.

_Evilness hides behind black robes’ shadows, destroying our heritage without remorse. Search for the fragments of their failures, those former soldiers of Voldemort._

“What are you saying?” Miranda said, shocked.

The dragon merely stared at her.

 _What do you mean?_ she demanded silently.

The dragon swished its tail.

Irritated, Miranda tapped it with her wand and watched it solidify back into its black obsidian form. She tapped the Hebridean Black and demanded, “Tell me why dragons are attacking humans.”

Silence, broken only by nails clawing at the material beneath it, filled the room.

 _Why won’t you tell me?_ Miranda’s mind raged, but no voice intruded upon her thoughts. Watching the Hebridean for a few more moments, she sighed.

Tapping it with her wand, she looked at the rest of the collection and saw the Peruvian Vipertooth. It was beautiful. Made of amber, the small horns on its head and black ridges across its back contrasted with the smooth scales gleaming in the light cast by the lit fire. Smiling grimly, she animated it.

 _How are Voldemort’s followers compelling the dragons to attack humans?_ Miranda demanded in thought as she stared at the compact dragon. It blinked its eyes at Miranda as it stretched its body, much like a cat would. Miranda was ready to give up when she heard a growly voice echo in her mind.

_The unborn are stripped of their ability to live, crushed under the weight of untimely death. To protect the future, dragons must heed the dictates of those whom you most dread._

Miranda’s eyebrows rose steeply as she stared at the Vipertooth. _Who would have the leverage to blackmail dragons?_ It was unthinkable. Unimaginable. Absurd.

How was it that these dragon statues were able to provide her with such information? Miranda tapped the Vipertooth with her wand and stood pensively. She took inventory of the dragons she had not tried to question. Already suspecting the results, she tapped the Welsh Green dragon.

 _Tell me why the dragons are attacking humans_ , Miranda requested as she watched it walk around the other dragon statues slowly before settling in the middle of the shelf. No answer. _Do you know whether your species will attack humans at the Death Eaters’ bidding?_ No answer. She tapped its head.

Staring at the other dragon statues, Miranda debated whether she should try to question each of them. Well, she had already questioned half of them. She might as well continue.

For the next twenty minutes she animated each of the remaining statues separately and asked questions, hoping to find more answers but gaining none. Finally, she sat down and stared at the fire. How was it that two of the statues had spoken to her telepathically? Was this magic created by Andrea? Just how powerful was she? And did she know of Miranda’s ability to speak to dragons telepathically?

Dracotongue was a virtually unknown talent within the wizarding world. Miranda’s family members had always been able to communicate with the great beasts, but several in her family line had used such skills to further the Dark Lord’s purposes. Such talent had been coveted by Voldemort since not only could they speak to dragons, but also to all manner of reptiles—from snakes to serpents, turtles to crocodiles. The secret had been kept over the years, exploited by evil and lost to the wizarding world through death and memory removal. Miranda did not believe anyone knew. She had never revealed her ability, even while working for the Ministry so long ago.

As far as she could tell, her girls were ignorant of the skill they most likely had. They had never experienced an opportunity to find out, nor had Miranda provided them with any indication that they might have such an ability.

It was one thing to be able to communicate with dragons telepathically and another to speak with animated dragon statues, though. _How would they know what was behind these attacks? How would Andrea know? Did Andrea know?_

Andrea. It all led back to her. Miranda crossed the room and grabbed some floo powder. She threw it into the fire and stated, “Hogwarts, Charms Master’s Office,” as she stuck her head into the green flames. Looking around, she spotted Andrea’s surprised face.

“Andrea,” Miranda greeted. “Is this a bad time?” Miranda ignored the incredulous look and proceeded. “Are you free for dinner on Friday? I have some questions for you that would be best answered in person, but I will not be free until then.”

“Um, yes, of course, Miranda,” Andrea quickly answered.

“Good. Come to my home by floo at seven.” Miranda paused, her eyes greedily running over the attractive vision of Andrea’s slightly rumpled appearance. She smirked. “That’s all.” She pulled her head out of the fire, smiling more widely at the bark of laughter she had heard.

At least she had the impending dinner to lift her spirits. Andrea might be able to answer some of her questions, too. Just being in the woman’s presence soothed her restlessness. Between now and then, however, Miranda still had much to discover.

Tired and perplexed, Miranda decided to turn in for the night. Tomorrow she would get some more answers. Tomorrow she would search for clues at the other two attack sites and then attempt to get more information from the dragon statues.

Closing her eyes, Miranda’s last thoughts as she dropped off to sleep were of how vocal Andrea had been while they had made love. It had created a higher level of intimacy, allowing her to respond to Andrea’s body and words, to say what she had felt for so long. _And yet Andrea’s words had not been uttered aloud._

They definitely had much to discuss.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hogwarts School, Scotland, Thursday, April 10, 2014**

Hermione answered the door with a smile, ushering Andy inside. “Good evening, Andy.”

“Hello, Hermione. How are you?” Andy asked as she leaned in for a hug.

“Not bad. My students are already on vacation, it seems. They had a very hard time concentrating during classes. I can only imagine how tomorrow will be.” They laughed as Andy walked toward the seating area.

“Same here. I can’t tell you how many fires I had to put out today during my afternoon classes. Honestly, how can someone confuse ascendio with incendio?” Andy asked in frustration as she flopped on the sofa.

A soft laugh caused Hermione to smile automatically as she tilted her head to receive a kiss on her cheek. “Hello, Gràdh,” she whispered softly, gazing into clear, emerald eyes.

“Hello to you,” Minerva answered with a lilt in her voice. She poured tea for the three of them before sitting beside Hermione. “Andrea, how are you faring today?”

“Well, I was just saying that my students seem to be rather distracted, but otherwise, I am well,” Andy answered before sipping her tea.

“Ah. So, Miranda’s absence isn’t _distracting_ you?” Minerva asked bluntly.

Hermione watched Andy spew out the liquid she had just begun to swallow and winced in sympathy. Turning to her wife, Hermione swatted her arm lightly. “Minerva! Leave the poor woman alone! For Merlin’s sake, you are so uncouth!” Andy’s inelegant snort of amusement stopped Hermione’s rant. She turned to Andy. “What?”

“Aunt Minerva, uncouth? That’s like saying that the Queen of England is poor, although I appreciate the sentiment.” Andy leaned back after quickly muttering a spell to clean the mess her unexpected liquid projection had caused. They sat silently for a moment until Minerva broke the silence once more.

“When will you be seeing her again?” Minerva asked politely. Andy froze, cup halfway to her lips, and shot a horrified look their way.

“What makes you think I will be seeing Miranda?” Andy asked.

Hermione felt her mouth fall open in surprise. She leaned forward and stared at Andy. “You are! What’s going on with you two?” She watched Andy’s face flush a deep red and smirked.

“And you say I’m uncouth,” Minerva muttered. Hermione slapped her arm, her eyes still focused on Andy.

“Um, well, we talked, kind of, on Monday, and she fire-called me yesterday to arrange for a meeting tomorrow night,” Andy admitted, her eyes skittering away.

Hermione waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “A meeting?”

“Hermione!” Andy said in a shocked voice, a hand raised to her breast like a Victorian heroine protecting her virtue.

“Oh, pulleaasee!” Hermione replied with a laugh. “Don’t even try to pull that virtuous act on me! Be thankful we didn’t ask you on Tuesday.”

Andy’s eyes flitted from Hermione to Minerva, several times back and forth while her mouth opened and closed. She seemed uncertain and embarrassed. Hermione leaned forward and placed a hand on Andy’s arm to comfort her. “It’s okay, Andy. We’ve been aware for years that you have harbored strong feelings for Miranda. I think it’s great if she returns them,” Hermione said gently.

“I agree,” Minerva said softly. “She is a formidable witch. You are a good match, and it is obvious that your feelings are not one-sided. I suspect that matter, at least, was cleared up on Monday.”

Hermione noticed the twinkle in her wife’s eyes and smiled. She had speculated Monday night once they had returned to their quarters that Andy and Miranda had interacted in some definitive way when Miranda had gone to the Charms classroom to find her daughters. It had not escaped Hermione’s notice that the Priestly girls had arrived for dinner without their mother, nor that the two witches had entered the Great Hall together halfway through the meal, both freshly showered. Both had exuded an air of satiation Hermione knew well from her years with Minerva, and when Hermione had witnessed the two formidable women’s eyes meeting, she had seen the air vibrate between them.

“Um, thanks. It, we haven’t really talked about it. I am hoping we will sort things out more tomorrow,” Andy revealed.

“Well, if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.” Hermione leaned closer and said conspiratorially, “I know what it feels like to be navigating feelings regarding an older, powerful, passionate woman.” Ruminating on why Miranda had returned to the wizarding world, Hermione made a mental note to contact Harry and Ron. They might have some useful information.

After an amiable silence, Andy said, “I had another dream last night. I was flying, and I felt massive. I was flexing my shoulder blades, which makes me believe I had wings, but not as extensions of my arms. It was an odd sensation. I was high—over a mountain range—and I was worried. I remember searching below me and flying over a clearing where several wizards were dueling. I began to dive toward them, and then the dream ended.”

“I had a series of increasingly vivid dreams right before my animagus form revealed itself to me. In fact, I changed for the first time directly after waking up from one such dream,” Hermione confided.

Minerva smiled softly. “I well remember that day. I found you asleep in your bed without a stitch of clothing on. It was quite shocking.”

“Just shocking?” Hermione asked coyly. She noticed the red tinge on defined cheekbones and smiled widely. Chuckling, Hermione added, “I was so exhausted after flying around for the first time that I couldn’t be bothered to pull on clothes.” She looked at Andy. “I’ll tell you right now that you’ll want to charm your clothes and any belongings on your person so that you can banish and summon them before and after changing forms. My mentor _forgot_ to pass on that little helpful piece of advice.”

“Well, I did plan to tell you, Hermione. I just hadn’t quite gotten around to it,” Minerva huffed.

“That day, Minerva nearly died,” Hermione said in a near-whisper. She felt the dulled knife of agony shoot through her. Even after all these years, it hurt to think about. Andy had heard the story before, of course. It was well-known in the wizarding community how Hermione in her animagus form of a phoenix had used her magical tears to heal Minerva’s mortal wound that snowy day on the Quidditch pitch so long ago.

“But I did not, thanks to you, Gràdh,” Minerva responded.

Hermione was captured in a loving gaze. That day, over fifteen years ago, had been one of the scariest in her life—right up there with when she had thought Voldemort had killed Harry during the final battle of the Second Wizarding War. Remembering it helped Hermione to understand Minerva’s desperation and very real fear of Hermione getting hurt or worse during this present dragon crisis. If Hermione lost Minerva—pain shot through her chest at the thought—she did not know whether she could survive the loss. Melodramatic, she knew, but that’s how she felt.

A warm hand cupped her cheek, redirecting her attention to her wife.

“I am right here, and I am not going anywhere. Nor are you,” Minerva declared firmly. To Hermione’s astonishment, Minerva leaned in and captured her lips in a heated kiss. Propriety flew out the door as Hermione responded to Minerva’s passion by wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her closer. After several moments where Hermione was unable to focus on anything but the sensations Minerva evoked, the kiss wound down to loving pecks delivered reverently. Hermione caught her breath as her eyes fluttered open, her attention focusing on her wife’s strong arms, the sofa’s soft cushions, and the fire’s warming flames.

She also remembered that they were not alone.

Looking over at the other sofa, Hermione saw Andy’s soft smile and couldn’t help smiling ruefully in return. She squeezed Minerva’s arms gratefully, warmed by her willingness to push aside her natural reticence to act affectionately in front of others in order to provide reassurance.

“Thank you, love,” Hermione said huskily. Inhaling and exhaling loudly, Hermione smiled as she ran her fingers lightly over Minerva’s cheek.

“So, it sounds like your animagus is a bird of some sort,” Hermione mused. “That’s great! And actually,” Hermione continued, becoming excited by the prospect, “I can show you some of my favorite places to fly around here and near the Manor.”

Andy laughed at Hermione’s enthusiasm. “That sounds wonderful, Hermione. I am looking forward to it.”

“I should warn you: I was extremely sore after flying the first few times. My arms, my back, my legs—everything. But it gets easier as your body adapts.”

“Huh. I was wondering whether an animagus form affects the human body. What other changes have you experienced?” Andy asked curiously.

“For my part, since my animagus is a cat I have found that my ability to see in the dark has increased dramatically as well as spotting movement at far distances,” Minerva revealed.

“My body has changed, particularly my upper body, and I am much healthier. And I can apparate anywhere in either form, regardless of any anti-apparation spells, wards, or disillusionment charms that may be in effect,” Hermione said. “Of course, that’s only because I am a phoenix. No other animal has that ability.”

Andy’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “That’s incredible. I’ve never heard of a magical animagus. How long did it take you to master your animagus form?”

“It was actually quite quick—about three months,” Hermione answered.

“The times vary, Andrea. It depends where you are in your studies and how advanced you are with transfiguration. Since you had trained for several months with me before leaving for the States to study for your Potions Mastery with Professor Cabiness, I anticipate your animagus mastery will happen quickly,” Minerva said.

“And that book I gave you, _A Step-by-Step Practical Guide to Finding Your Inner Animal_ , is really helpful,” Hermione added.

“Oh, yeah. I already read that one years ago, and I’ve started reviewing it again. Um, I was also wondering…” Andy said with hesitation. Hermione noticed that she seemed unsure of herself.

“What is it?” Hermione prompted gently.

“Well, I wondered whether any animagus forms have the ability to hear another’s voice telepathically.” Andy stared at her hands, clenched in her lap.

“Telepathically?” Minerva said. “Not that I am aware. Why do you ask?”

Andy’s face flushed, partially hidden by her curtain of dark hair. “Oh, I must have been mistaken. I mean, I’ve never had that ability before, and I cannot do it with anyone else. Um.”

“Besides whom?” Minerva prompted.

When Andy did not answer, Hermione and Minerva exchanged glances. “Miranda?” Hermione asked softly. She watched Andy nod.

“But, well, we haven’t spoken of it. Perhaps that’s not what happened. I mean, we were in the middle of, I mean we…” Andy’s words petered off, and Hermione bit her lip to keep her grin at bay. Andy had pretty much just confirmed Hermione’s guess that something pretty intense had occurred between them.

“Yes, you should discuss it,” Minerva said gently. “And when you are in her company, perhaps you can determine whether that ability is present.” Another nod.

Hermione wondered what animagus could read minds or speak to another silently. She felt the spark of intellectual curiosity take hold. She thought of a few books that might be helpful, and tilted her head as her mind ran through a list of birds. Minerva’s whisper broke her concentration.

“I believe we are losing you to your thoughts,” Minerva murmured before delivering a kiss to Hermione’s cheek. Looking into eyes laden with affection, Hermione grinned.

“Sorry.” Hermione said, chagrined, before returning her attention to Andy. “What are your plans over the holiday break?”

“I have no idea,” Andy answered.

“You are always welcome to join us at the Manor,” Minerva said.

At Andy’s hesitant look, Hermione added, “We have plenty of room, as you well know.”

“Yes, thank you. It’s just that, I am guessing that Miranda’s daughters will be remaining here, and I would feel better keeping an eye on them,” Andy admitted.

“Well, then. You can always visit. The moorland is beautiful this time of year,” Minerva amended.

“And you’ll have to come by this Tuesday night for your animagus training. Now that you’ve started back up and are experiencing the dreams, it’s essential to keep your scheduled Tuesday lessons,” Hermione said.

“All right. That sounds great,” Andy said with a smile. She placed her empty teacup on the side table and rose. “I’d better get going. I am feeling awfully tired. Must be all that flying I’ve been doing,” she joked.

“No doubt,” Hermione agreed. She hugged Andy at the door. “Good night. Sweet dreams.”

“Right,” Andy said sardonically as she withdrew from hugging Minerva. “Good night.”

Turning away from the closed door, Hermione felt soft lips cover hers. “Mmmm,” she hummed. “I love you,” she whispered against moist lips.

“And I love you,” Minerva answered. “Come to bed.”

“I will in a moment. I just want to deliver a message to Harry,” Hermione said. Since he was the Head Auror at the Ministry of Magic and Ron was also an Auror, Hermione had no doubt that they were investigating the dragon attacks, too.

“I’d like to be there when you speak to Harry and Ron about the dragon attacks,” Minerva said, kissing the tip of Hermione’s nose before she released her.

“How did you…” Hermione began. Raised eyebrows stopped her question. She chuckled. “Right. Silly question.” Hermione smiled tenderly. “You know me so well.”

‘Don’t be too long,” Minerva murmured. Hermione received the loving kiss eagerly and nodded. She quickly wrote out a formal request for she and Minerva to see both of them at their earliest convenience, and apparated to the second level of the Ministry of Magic. With a smirk, she laid the message on Harry’s desk and apparated back to Hogwarts. _Why use an owl or floo when I can deliver my letters quicker in person?_

Business finished, Hermione banked the fire’s embers in their fireplace, extinguished the candles, and made her way to their bedroom. As soon as she crossed its threshold, Hermione heard Minerva’s Scottish burr mutter magical words. Feeling her clothes disappear, Hermione advanced to their bed where Minerva lounged. “In a hurry?” Hermione asked with a smirk as she climbed on top of her equally naked wife.

“Aye. Now come here,” she growled playfully.

Hermione yielded without hesitation, lowering her head to taste her wife’s irresistible lips. They were together, alive, and she intended to rejoice in every moment.


	8. Chapter 8

**Princhek townhouse, London Friday, April 11, 2014**

Andy walked into the green flame after throwing floo powder into the Charms office fireplace and stumbled out into Miranda’s home. Looking down at her soot-covered robes, Andy said, "Scourgify _,"_ and waved her wand over her body negligently. She looked up as she walked farther into the room and spotted the display of dragon statues. Smiling softly, Andy stepped over to the eight gifts, remembering the time and effort she had invested over the years, and touched a few of them reverently.

“They are works of art.”

Andy swung around and found Miranda standing just inside the room. “Miranda,” Andy breathed. She felt her face heat up as her mouth curved into a wide smile. She was so happy to see the older woman.

“Over the years I have marveled over the apparent intricacy of each statue and the realistic nature of the details. I wondered how someone could know dragons so intimately, and how that person had found me in the United States, where I had taken care to hide my heritage as well as my magical signature.”

Andy could feel Miranda’s eyes raking over her as she spoke, and she could do nothing but watch, anticipation ratcheting higher and higher as Miranda slowly moved toward her.

“More than that, though, the way they act while animated is eerily accurate. I know,” Miranda asserted. “I grew up around dragons, worked with dragons—I am even able to communicate with dragons.”

Andy tried not to tremble as Miranda slowly ran a finger over Andy’s parted lips, her chin, the column of her throat. She swallowed convulsively as that finger stalled at her collar bone, rubbing it back and forth hypnotically.

“You can talk to dragons?” Andy asked.

“Yes. And now, apparently to magical dragon statues,” Miranda whispered, her lips grazing the shell of Andy’s ear enticingly. “Would you know anything about that?”

Andy turned her head to gaze into piercing eyes. “No. They talk?”

“To an extent, and not all of them.” She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “You really didn’t know?”

Andy shook her head.

“Hmm. Perhaps over dinner you will reveal how you crafted them,” Miranda said and leaned in to deliver a kiss.

Andy sighed, feeling something settle within her as she felt those appealing lips cover hers. Oh how she had dreamt of feeling them again! Andy moaned, opening her mouth to allow Miranda’s tongue entrance. Pulling Miranda against her, Andy ran her hands down Miranda’s back, stopping when a strange smell reached her nostrils. Face scrunching up in disgust, Andy pulled back.

“ _What_ is that smell?” Andy asked.

“Excuse me?” Miranda responded, obviously taken aback.

“That smell! It’s…” Andy looked down and saw what Miranda was wearing. She gasped as a wave of revulsion swept through her. “What are you _wearing_?”

“Dragon hide,” Miranda answered, sounded confused and offended.

Andy could see that Miranda was quite put off by her reaction, but she had little time to soothe Miranda’s ruffled feathers. Instead, Andy hurriedly covered her mouth with a hand as she felt bile fill the back of her mouth. Her eyes stung. She had no idea why she was reacting this way, but just looking at those beautiful chocolate-colored dragon hide slacks and, Andy now noticed, matching knee-high boots was causing her to feel sick, never mind the added stimulus of smelling their distinctive scent.

“Where is your bathroom?” Andy gasped as she stumbled toward the door. Feeling herself losing control, she ran out as she heard Miranda’s voice directing her to the second door on the right. She dropped to her knees, lifted the top of the toilet seat, and spewed the contents of her stomach quite forcefully into the marble bowl. After several more disgusting minutes, Andy felt her stomach begin to settle. It was then that Andy became aware of fingers running through her hair, holding it back, while a cold, wet compress rested on the back of her neck.

Mortified, Andy turned her head, looking into concerned blue eyes. “I’m okay. Sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” Andy said in a hoarse voice. She noticed that Miranda was on her knees next to her with no pants or boots on. She smiled sheepishly. “That was a beautiful outfit. Um, maybe I’m allergic?”

“I very much doubt that, Andrea,” Miranda said dryly as she pulled Andy up. Leaning over, Miranda flushed the toilet. “Why don’t you freshen up while I change?” Andy watched as, not waiting for a reply, Miranda swept from the room.

“Well, shit!” Andy said, her arms locked to brace herself against the sink. She squeezed the sides of the circular marble basin tightly as she tried to get her bearings. After some deep breaths, Andy found mouthwash and rinsed out the remainder of her regurgitation, grimacing at the taste. She made a visual sweep of her clothes to make sure the contents of her stomach had not landed on any part of her body before making her way back to the den where Miranda waited, staring pensively at the dragon statues.

“How do you feel?” Miranda asked once Andy had joined her.

“Much better,” Andy answered meekly.

“You seem to have a strong affinity for dragons,” Miranda commented, her penetrating eyes mesmerizing Andy.

“I, yeah, I guess. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I’ve never reacted that way before, though, and my parents used to wear dragon hide all the time while I was growing up.” Andy grew silent as she tried to make sense of her body’s reaction. She shook her head slightly, bemused. Hands slid around her waist as a well-loved chin rested on her shoulder. They stood, lost in their thoughts, for several minutes. Andy took the time to reacquaint herself with the dragon statues. Some she hadn’t seen for several years, and she rejoiced in the knowledge that Miranda had liked them enough to keep them.

“Do you think you can eat dinner, or would you rather forego food?” Miranda said, her breath tickling Andy’s ear, causing her to shiver.

“Oh, no. I can eat,” Andy said as she turned in Miranda’s arms. At her raised eyebrows, Andy added, “Really. I feel fine now.” She watched as Miranda seemed to make a decision. She leaned in and brushed her lips against Andy’s softly before stepping back.

“Very well,” Miranda acquiesced, taking Andy’s hand and pulling gently. They walked into a formal dining room where two places were set next to each other. The room was lit by several candles resting on an antique cherry wood table and floating about the room, the flames reflecting off a gorgeous crystal chandelier and several dazzling crystal goblets. Miranda released Andy’s hand and took her seat at the end of the table, indicating with a head tilt for Andy to sit to her immediate right. Andy sank into a comfortable wooden straight-back chair with blood-red cushions, smiling as she noticed the casual elegance and wealth the room exhibited.

Once they were both settled, food appeared on their plates, a mouth-watering array of steak, vegetables, and salad. Andy also noticed red wine resting in one of her goblets, water in another. She smiled. “This looks wonderful. Thank you for inviting me,” Andy said.

“You are quite welcome,” Miranda murmured as she cut a piece of steak. Her eyes fluttered closed as she savored the first bite. “Mmm. Santie is a wonderful cook.”

Andy agreed readily. The food tasted wonderful.

“How is it that I could not detect your magical signature all these years?” Miranda asked suddenly.

“I believe you did not recognize my magic for the same reasons I did not recognize yours—neither of us expected to encounter a witch, and we both cloaked our magic with disillusionment charms. Right?”

Miranda nodded slowly. “It is true that I used a number of charms to protect my identity and that of my daughters. And you are also correct that I was not expecting to interact with someone from the wizarding community. Perhaps I have become too lax while away. After all, there may be many others in my life who have magical backgrounds.”

“It’s possible. I learned to mask my signature while in Massachusetts. After a while, it became second nature to me,” Andy said. “The McGonagall line is well-known in the wizarding community, and some would wish to harm us.”

Miranda nodded thoughtfully. “I understand completely. Andrea, tell me about yourself. I can’t help but believe that your résumé was severely lacking in terms of your education and life experience,” Miranda said with a smirk. “Did you attend Hogwarts?”

Andy chuckled, reaching out to grab her wine. She took a large gulp. _Liquid courage at its best_ , she mused. Glancing over, she saw Miranda’s amused look and felt herself blush. _Right_.

“Well, yes, it does leave quite a bit out. I did not go to Hogwarts, thanks to a falling out between my aunt and my dad,” Andy began.

“Minerva, you mean?” Miranda interjected.

“Yes,” Andy said as she nodded. “So, I went to the Salem Witches’ Institute in Massachusetts. After I graduated, I returned to Scotland and apprenticed with Filius for four years for my Charms Mastery. Then I began my animagus training with Aunt Minerva.”

“You are an animagus?” Miranda gasped.

“No,” Andy admitted in a small voice. “My training was interrupted by Voldemort’s rise to power during the Second Wizarding War. I had nearly completed my training, though, and recently it has resumed. Aunt Minerva and Hermione believe I am very close to tapping in to my animagus form.”

“What did you do when you stopped training? What year was that? Ninety-five? Ninety-six?” Miranda asked.

“Voldemort came back into power during the summer of ninety-five. That probably wouldn’t have been a good enough reason to stop training, except that my parents—they were both Aurors—were killed while attempting to stop the escape of several Death Eaters from Azkaban. Leading up to that event, we had argued constantly over my mom and dad’s constant pleas that I leave the country. They had wanted me to be safe. I wouldn’t go, though.” Andy felt tears sliding down her face and wiped them away angrily. “You would think after all this time, it wouldn’t hurt so much,” Andy complained in a bitter voice.

“I am so sorry, Andrea,” Miranda said tenderly as cool fingers intertwined with Andy’s. She stared at their hands and squeezed it. “I fought Voldmort during the First Wizarding War. I never dreamed he would return to power. By the time he did, I had lived in New York for about a decade, and Caroline and Cassidy were just babies. In addition, I had cut my ties with my family.”

A grimace crossed Miranda’s face, making Andy curious about Miranda’s relationship with her relatives. Before she could ask, though, Miranda shook her head. Noticing the slight purse of her lips, Andy decided not to push.

“Please continue,” Miranda urged.

“After my parents’ deaths, and at my aunt’s prompting, I returned to the States to apprentice with Lenore Cabiness for my Potions mastery. After that I went to Northwestern and then somehow got a job working for the most captivating woman I have ever met.” Andy peeked at Miranda through her eyelashes after she finished talking, waiting for more questions.

“Just how old _are_ you?” Miranda asked. “Certainly not thirty, as I had assumed.”

“Nope,” Andy agreed. “I am forty-one. How old are you, Miranda?” Andy fluttered her eyes as she smiled widely, teasing Miranda even as she hoped the question would be answered.

“Fifty-nine. A great deal older than you.” Miranda sighed as she shifted restlessly.

“Aunt Minerva is forty-four years older than Hermione, and they have a wonderful, loving relationship. Age is only a factor if you allow it to be,” Andy said firmly. She ran her thumb over Miranda’s palm. “If you can feel the pull as I do, please give this a chance,” Andy said softly.

“I fear I have no choice in the matter, Andrea. I have always felt the pull. Why do you think I was so upset when you disappeared?” Miranda admitted. “The possibility of never seeing you again pained me greatly. I think what happened on Monday was long in coming.”

Andy smiled wickedly. “I couldn’t agree more.” They remained seated, holding hands as their thoughts wandered. Finally Andy dared to ask, “Why didn’t you return during the second war? I know you said that your daughters were babies and that you had cut ties with your family, but there must be more to it. I mean, you fought in the first one…” She watched as Miranda’s face became a blank slate, and her heart sank. _Please, tell me_ , she begged silently.

With a loud sigh and a squeeze of Andy’s hand, Miranda said quietly, “Are you aware that I can hear your thoughts?”

Andy’s eyebrows flew up. “Wh-what? I thought that was a fluke, or that I was just, I don’t know, imagining it.”

“No. At times, your voice is very clear. I would guess that is when you are feeling quite _passionate_.” Miranda smirked. “I have wondered how this is possible since I have been able to communicate with dragons telepathically, but not with people.” She eyed Andy speculatively. “Are you telepathic?”

“No. I’ve never been able to talk to someone like that before,” Andy said.

“I know I can trust you with what I am about to reveal, Andrea,” Miranda said softly.

Nodding, Andy sat and listened while Miranda explained her abilities. “So, you can talk to dragons, serpents, snakes, reptiles—Jesus! That’s unheard of,” Andy exclaimed.

“As far as I know, only my family has been able to do so. Voldemort was quite intrigued. He felt our abilities coupled with his ability to speak parseltongue could tip the scales in his favor.” Miranda’s face twisted into a grimace. “My family, the Princhek line, used to be very powerful, one of the oldest pureblood wizard lines. They fell under Voldemort’s spell, believing his propaganda about ridding the wizarding world of Mudbloods, and they became Death Eaters—my parents and two uncles. You can imagine their reaction when I married a Muggle and turned my back on magic. We moved to the States, and I left everything that I knew for love.”

“Your parents must have been furious,” Andy said, sympathetic to the hard choice Miranda had made. “Wait. Did you fight against your family in the first war? Were they arrested after the war? Did they die during it?” At Miranda’s raised hand, Andy stopped the barrage of questions, fidgeting slightly.

“I did not fight directly against them, but I was instrumental in arranging for the capture of my parents and one of my uncles. Unfortunately, my other uncle, Theodorus Princhek, went into hiding and has remained elusive to this day. My parents died while rotting away in Azkaban, and dear Uncle Jerome died while attempting to escape.”

Miranda stopped talking and stared at Andy long enough for her to wonder what the older witch was thinking. She did not want to ask, though. Instead, she took the opportunity to lose herself in dark blue eyes swimming with emotion. A cleared throat broke the tension rising between them.

“Many of my family’s friends, as well as countless Death Eaters and followers of Voldemort, turned against me. I did not care since I could defend myself, but after I fell in love, I felt it best to leave. And once I gave birth, I knew I could not return. If anything ever happened to my daughters…” Miranda’s blue eyes turned gray, reminding Andy of the rainy days so prevalent in Scotland. The expression was bleak, hinting at how much distress she felt when contemplating such an outcome. “One of the conditions for them to attend Hogwarts was for their surname to not be linked to Princhek. Minerva and Filius have been quite cooperative.” Miranda sipped her wine before continuing. “Why didn’t I return to fight Voldemort during the second war? Because I could not risk bringing my girls with me, and I could not risk losing my own life,” Miranda said in a soft voice.

Gasping at the idea, Andy shook her head. “You would not have died, Miranda! You are powerful—you’ve said so yourself!”

“Andrea, some of the most powerful wizards and witches died during the first war, and I had no doubt the same would occur during the second one. And I was right. Many courageous, formidable people were killed—look at Albus Dumbledore, one of the most powerful wizards ever known. How could I be so arrogant as to believe I would survive, knowing that Voldemort would have sought me out if he had realized I was back?”

“He might not have found out,” Andy tried but stopped when Miranda laughed mockingly.

“Really, Andrea, I know you are not that naïve. He would have known. And what if I had died? What would have happened to my girls? If they had lived with their father, they would have had to hide their magic—part of who they are. They didn’t deserve that, and I could not allow for the possibility. I know what kind of life that is—I hid that part of me from their father for years—and I was determined to prevent that fate from becoming theirs. So, I turned my back on the wizarding world for the second time.”

Overwhelmed by the rawness of Miranda’s voice, the nearly pleading quality—asking Andy to understand, to accept why Miranda had made her choices—Andy felt compassion rise within her coupled with incredulity that Miranda was explaining herself. Explaining her choices. To her. _So selfless, so noble._

A mirthless laugh broke through Andy’s musings. “Hardly, Andrea. Those were the main reasons, but I also stayed in the States for less altruistic reasons. My girls were babies, I was still married—hiding that part of my life—and I was climbing up the career ladder at _Runway_.”

“That doesn’t lessen the import of your other reasons. You made a hard choice—the best choice considering the circumstances,” Andy said. She allowed the new information to run through her mind, processing it quickly. “So, why return now?”

“Caroline and Cassidy are much older. They are relatively safe at Hogwarts. I am not married.” _And you are here._

Hearing the unvoiced reason, Andy gasped. She felt her hand squeezed. “I heard you,” Andy said, amazed.

“I wondered whether it worked both ways,” Miranda said. “Come with me, Andrea.”

They walked back to the den silently. Andy wasn’t sure what to think. What did all this mean? How were they able to hear each other’s voices in their minds? Why couldn’t she hear every thought Miranda had? Could she hear all of Andy’s thoughts? Andy’s questions stalled when they stopped in front of the dragon statue display.

Miranda tapped the emerald Romanian Longhorn with her wand. They watched as it flew around the other dragons leisurely before landing on the edge of the shelf and puffing out a ring of smoke. Andy grinned, proud of her handiwork.

“Why are dragons attacking humans?” Miranda asked. The dragon opened its maw and expelled a thin stream of fire. It tilted its head at Andy and roared plaintively.

Andy jolted when she heard Miranda’s voice clearly in her mind saying, _Why are dragons attacking humans?_ What shocked her more, though, was when a masculine voice boomed an answer.

_Those who were lost are found, those who left have returned. Yet, their rightful place still must be learned._

Andy looked askance at Miranda, who did not seem surprised, just contemplative. She tapped the dragon with her wand and turned to Andy.

“Did you hear its words?” Miranda asked.

“Yes. Did you?” Andy said.

“Yes. I also heard the riddle last night, after visiting one of the attack sites. It is odd. The only statues that have provided information about the attacks are those replicas of the dragon species that were responsible for them. However, it was not until I had identified the dragon responsible for an attack that I was able to receive a message. For example, that Longhorn did not say anything two days ago when I asked it questions.” Miranda stared into Andy’s eyes for several moments while Andy tried to make sense of what this meant.

“I, when I created these dragons, I transformed the molecules while infusing them with powerful charms to protect you. Perhaps this is a manifestation of such protection,” Andy suggested hesitantly.

“And what of your ability to speak dracotongue?” Miranda asked mildly.

“Me? I can’t sp—”

“No, no.” Miranda waved her fingered back and forth in front of Andy’s nose. “You can. Those statues do not speak the human language, nor do they speak aloud. They speak their language, and you understood it perfectly.”

Andy stared at Miranda in shock. _How can this be?_

“Really, Andrea. You are a smart witch. Connect the dots,” Miranda said.

Andy shook her head. _It should be impossible_. There was no possible explanation. A hand on her shoulder redirected Andy’s attention to blue eyes reflecting understanding.

“I learned a long time ago that when it comes to you, nothing is impossible. I believe your animagus form is a dragon, enabling you to speak their language and communicate with me telepathically,” Miranda said.

“That’s, that’s absurd. An animagus form is an extension of one’s personality and inner traits. What could I possibly have in common with a dragon?” Andy sputtered.

“Quite a bit, Andrea. You are intelligent, courageous, fierce, and patient. Dragons never take the offensive but do know how and _will_ defend themselves. They have nothing to prove, and make decisions based upon what is best, not what others want or need. You, darling, have several traits that correspond to how dragons act.” Miranda ran a hand through Andy’s hair lovingly. “You are extraordinary.”

The idea was preposterous. And exciting. Andy sighed as Miranda rested her hand on the nape of her neck and gently pulled her forward. Their lips met in a slow, intense kiss. Miranda gently moved her lips over Andy’s cheek and stalled next to her ear.

“Will you stay tonight?” Miranda asked softly.

“Yes,” Andy whispered, her eyes still closed from their kiss. She felt Miranda’s lips smile against her throat even as her hand was grasped and tugged.

“Let me make love to you, Andrea,” Miranda said in a husky voice.

“Yes,” Andy whispered again and followed, a smile lighting her from the inside out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ministry of Magic, Auror Division, London Saturday, April 12, 2014**

Minerva brushed soot from her robes as she stepped forward to provide room for Hermione’s arrival. She watched as Harry, seated at his desk, looked up wearily and smiled. His eyes reflected exhaustion and hard-won wisdom. She nodded her head in greeting.

“Please have a seat,” Harry said moments after Hermione stepped into the room, nodding toward a conference table set off to the side. He got up to hug Hermione as Minerva sat down. Ronald walked in and nodded politely to Minerva as he joined them, hugging Hermione too tightly for Minerva’s liking. Minerva growled playfully at the tableau, Hermione’s light laughter teasing a small smile from her. Hermione sat down while Minerva shot a glare at Ron, chuckling when his face flushed and he cleared his throat nervously.

“Honestly, Minerva!” Hermione said as she swatted her arm.

Minerva captured her wife’s hand and squeezed it while gazing at Ronald and smiling more fully. His loud sigh of relief was quite comical. Over the years, Minerva had become quite fond of him. When she and Hermione had first become a couple, Minerva had not respected him—his behavior toward Hermione had been unacceptable. He had made amends, though, and at this juncture, so many years later, their supposed rivalry for Hermione’s affections was a well-played, light-hearted joke.

“I am glad you asked for this meeting, Hermione. I was planning on contacting both of you. We have been investigating several dragon attacks, as I’m sure you know,” Harry began.

Minerva accepted the proffered file from Ronald and opened it. Glancing through its contents, she frowned. More dragon attacks had occurred than she had realized. Four in the last two weeks. She flipped to a report authored by Miriam—Miranda—and began to read. When she reached the conclusion, she looked up gravely.

“Dragons being black-mailed? Who could find a way to communicate with dragons, never mind coerce them into attacking humans?” Minerva asked skeptically.

“I know it sounds absurd, but it is not unheard of for a human to be able to communicate with a dragon. In fact one particular family line is known for its dracomouth members. Voldemort had been extremely interested in them, and most of that family had joined him during both wars. They are able to communicate telepathically—it’s much more powerful than parseltongue. Until recently, we believed only one person existed from that lineage, a Death Eater who has eluded capture, but it has come to light that three other persons are also descendants.”

“Why is this the first time I have heard about them?” Minerva demanded. How could they expect her to keep Hogwarts safe when people were running about with the ability to reduce dragons to slaves?

“We thought the threat had passed. The Minister had made the decision to bury the information, not wanting to agitate the wizarding community, particularly with all the other challenges it was facing at that time. It was assumed that the Death Eater had left the country or died after the last war—he was off the radar for sixteen years, and truthfully we still don’t have any proof that he is alive and behind these attacks,” Harry said.

“What family line?” Hermione asked.

“Princhek,” Ronald answered. “We did not realize that Miranda Priestly is Miriam Princhek until she told us herself, along with information about her family. She and her daughters, along with her uncle, are the only people alive who have this ability, as far as we know—although she made it clear that her daughters have never indicated that they have this ability, and their father is a Muggle.”

“The Death Eater is Theodorus Princhek. We are unsure whether he is aware that Miranda is here or who her daughters are, so we’d like to assign some Aurors to Hogwarts, just to make sure no one suspicious visits the grounds. It’s only a matter of time until the truth comes out,” Harry said.

“Why is that? No one has tried to gain admittance during the last seven years that the Priestly twins have attended Hogwarts,” Minerva said. Not that she did not appreciate the gesture, but she did not wish for her students or faculty to begin to worry, as would surely occur once Ministry presence appeared. “We can reinforce the wards to shield against any intrusions and make sure the anti-apparation charms are in effect.”

“All the same, Headmistress, I feel strongly that Aurors should at least patrol the perimeter. We will attempt to be as non-intrusive as possible. With most of your students away for holiday, we are hoping to capture those responsible for the attacks before classes resume,” Harry said.

“You really believe you can catch him in one week? Come on, Harry! You said yourself you have no idea whether he is even alive or the one instigating the attacks. What proof do you have?” Hermione asked.

“Most is speculation,” Harry admitted, “but it is based on the information Priestly has given us. Her reports have confirmed which dragons are responsible for the attacks, and she believes it is the work of dark wizards and, in particular, her uncle. It’s the only lead we have.”

“We’re assigning an Auror to Miranda, too, to keep an eye on her and make sure she isn’t helping her uncle,” Ronald added.

“That’s absurd,” Hermione exclaimed. “Use your head, Ron! If she were helping them, she would not have revealed her family’s secrets. I’ve met her, and I know she is honorable.”

“I agree,” Minerva said. “She has done nothing to warrant your suspicion. I am sure you remember how it feels to have others doubt you without any proof of wrongdoing,” she added as she stared at Harry. Although the man had matured into an admirable leader and she was glad he was the head of the Auror Division, it seemed possible that he had buried his memories of when he had been ridiculed and mistrusted by his peers so many years ago.

Under her steady gaze, she watched Harry’s ears redden as he nodded in a choppy motion indicative of his embarrassment. She wondered how she had become the blush-instigator on this day. Shaking her head, she regretted embarrassing Harry, but she could not abide his jumping to conclusions. Ronald, yes—the Weasley boy had always been passionate and careless—but she expected more from Harry.

“Um, right. We’re also following up on a few leads we have to get more information on who is instigating the attacks from some contacts who are friendly with several Death Eaters,” Harry continued, his eyes glued to his file.

“Death Eaters! I thought they were all in Azkaban or dead,” Hermione said.

“That is what we would rather have the wizarding community believe. Unfortunately, the truth is that several Death Eaters escaped after the war ended and could not be tracked. Eventually, a number of them turned up through the help of some former dark wizards—those who had defected after realizing that Voldemort would never reward their loyalty. They offered information about underground cells that proved accurate and useful. We are hoping those contacts will help us get to the bottom of these attacks,” Harry explained.

Minerva noticed that during the entire explanation, Harry had kept his eyes on the documents in front of him. She waited until his eyes flicked up, and smiled gently. “Thank you for meeting with us. Please keep us apprised of the investigation,” she requested and rose from her seat.

Minerva nodded to both men before crossing the room to the fireplace, Hermione close on her heels. She threw floo powder in the flames and stepped forward quickly. Moving into her office, she stared expectantly at the fireplace, waiting for Hermione’s arrival. As her wife stepped out, she smiled grimly. Strong arms pulled Minerva into a fortifying hug.

“I think you made Ron a bit anxious, my love,” Hermione whispered.

“That boy needs to learn to keep his hands to himself. Perhaps it is time I make good on my threat to hex that octopus,” Minerva said gruffly.

Hermione’s relaxed chuckle only stirred up Minerva’s ire. She wondered whether Hermione liked all the attention she received. Merlin knew Hermione was attractive and powerful. Was it no wonder that others felt her allure? She pulled away from Hermione and sat down at her desk, deciding to review the files of the dragon attacks more closely. Before she could even open the file, though, Hermione wrapped her arms around Minerva and plopped on her lap.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

Minerva sighed, feeling quite irritated. She knew her insecurities were getting the better of her. Hermione loved her and would never stray. And was it really her fault that she was so desirable? Minerva would rather the unpleasant thoughts pass without dwelling on them. Or discussing them.

“Hermione,” Minerva said, warning clear in her voice. Before she could say anything else, Hermione’s lips crashed on to hers. Minerva capitulated with a moan, her lips opening to the passionate onslaught. Their tongues sparred for dominance as they held each other tightly. By the time the kiss ended, Minerva was panting with desire. They rested their foreheads together as they struggled to get their breathing under control.

The clock chimed, breaking the silence, and Hermione pulled back to stare into Minerva’s eyes. “I love you. You! Ron knows he will never have me because I am yours and always shall be. I have pledged myself to you, and I do not take that promise lightly. If hugging me makes him happy, then so be it. I will be in your bed tonight and every night thereafter. Not his. Never his.”

“After I die, you may reconsider,” Minerva said, staring at the front of Hermione’s black robes.

“Don’t be daft, woman! I will die with you!” Hermione said vehemently.

“Hermione!” Minerva stared into impassioned eyes with shock. “I am much older than you. It makes sense that you will outlive me.”

“I will not want to live without you. It’s as simple as that. I will never lie in anyone else’s arms. You are my first and only love. So, I suggest you remain healthy and alive, as I will be right next to you the entire time.” Hermione leaned in and delivered a tender kiss.

“I am sorry, Gràdh. It astounds me that you love me as you do. I don’t know what I did to deserve your devotion, but I will always be grateful. Please forgive me for acting so barmy. I do trust you,” Minerva said. She pulled Hermione in for a hug and sighed.

“And I you,” Hermione said softly. After a few minutes of silent cuddling, Hermione slid off Minerva’s lap and pulled up a chair so they could review the file notes. Minerva smiled softly. Her wife simply amazed her.

Opening the file, Minerva began reviewing its contents, including a document of the Princhek family tree. Miranda’s parents and two uncles had become Death Eaters during the First Wizarding War. She had no siblings. Her uncles, Theodorus and Jerome, had both married but had no children. Theodorus had married Eugenia Bulstrode, and Jerome had married Sylvia Stratford.

“Hermione,” Minerva said, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to remember. “Didn’t you attend Hogwarts with a Bulstrode?”

“You mean Millicent,” Hermione scowled. “She was a Slytherin. I believe she was part of Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad of goons.”

“Hmm. Do you know who her mother was?” Minerva asked.

“Louisa Bulstrode, I think. They were distantly related to the Blacks. I can check…” Hermione began.

“No. That’s not necessary. I remember now,” Minerva muttered. Yes, she remembered both sisters. Both had been overbearing, arrogant Slytherins. And if memory served, Millicent had acted just as arrogantly. In addition, Sylvia Stratford had also been a Slytherin and had died in the Second Wizarding War while serving with Voldemort.

“I find it interesting that Miranda and her family line are able to speak to dragons telepathically and that Andrea was questioning a magical creature’s ability to communicate telepathically with another,” Minerva mused.

“Well, it is obvious that Andy was talking about Miranda. What are you suggesting?” Hermione asked.

“I am wondering how they are able to communicate in that way and what that has to do with dracotongue,” Minerva began.

Albus’ voice interrupted their conversation. “Tabby, there are four visitors at the front gate requesting admittance.”

Nodding, Minerva said, “The Aurors, I suspect.” She turned to Hermione. “You do not need to accompany me if you have duties to attend to. I will find you once I am done meeting with them.” Minerva accepted the light brushing of lips Hermione offered before making her way to the Ministry employees alone, eager to finish this unpleasant business.

She and Hermione were supposed to leave for the Manor today, but now she wondered whether they should remain at the school. She would have to discuss it with Hermione once she returned to their rooms. Although not many students were remaining during the break, the Priestly twins were, and not many of the faculty would remain at Hogwarts.

Seeing the Aurors, Minerva quickened her steps and opened the gate with a wandless command. “Good afternoon,” she greeted them. She recognized all of them—each a former student. They nodded respectfully, and one—Jackson Williamson—stepped forward to hand her some documents.

“Headmistress, we will each take one side of the castle grounds. That is a list of Aurors assigned to this detail and their schedules for the next week. We will be checking in with each other regularly, and at the end of each shift, a report will be delivered to you and to the Ministry. If you have any concerns, please feel free to let me know,” he said politely.

Minerva reviewed the list quickly and nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Williamson. I would appreciate it if you and your colleagues could keep a low profile while patrolling. I do not want anyone to become concerned about the safety of Hogwarts.”

“Of course, Headmistress.”

“And I expect to be notified if anything seems amiss,” she continued, staring at the broad-shouldered, sandy brown-haired man. Another nod ended their conversation. Turning on her heel, Minerva strode back toward the castle as she heard Williamson’s voice ring out to his colleagues, providing instructions on who was to go where.

Once she returned to her private quarters, Minerva found Hermione grading a seemingly endless stack of essays. She smirked. That was one aspect of teaching she did not miss. Hermione’s bent head and furrowed brow reminded Minerva of long ago when Hermione was her brightest student in her Transfiguration class. Minerva remembered how she had planned to offer to train Hermione for her animagus mastery during her seventh and what would have been her final year of attending Hogwarts, but Hermione had not returned to school that year, instead joining Harry and Ronald on the run while searching for horcruxes. That had been quite the trying year. And once the trio had returned and helped to defeat Voldemort and his followers, Minerva’s life had changed unequivocally.

Hermione had remained at the school to help with repairs, and they had become closer. And closer. Until Minerva could not stay away, could not deny her attraction, her captivation, her need to have Hermione in every possible way.

Yet Minerva had proceeded slowly, determined to build a proper foundation. And although she had been tempted numerous times to throw away caution and succumb to her desires—Merlin, how she had burned for the younger woman’s touch—she had kept her resolve, making sure that they had both been ready for the intimacy of a physical relationship. Minerva was not one to give her heart easily, and she had known from the day Hermione had reentered her life that the younger witch was her last, true love.

Gazing at Hermione, she felt desire swirl low in her belly. Minerva had looked forward to this holiday, wanting to get away from the various demands inherent in her position as Hogwarts’ Headmistress and lose herself in Hermione, but now she wondered whether that would be the best choice.

As if hearing her thoughts, Hermione looked up and smiled. She placed her quill next to the pile and stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “Would you like some tea, love?” Hermione asked softly while crossing the distance between them.

“Yes. Allow me,” Minerva said as she leaned in for a kiss. She sank into it, feeling arousal spike through her as an inquisitive tongue asked for entrance. She granted it immediately, moaning as her senses became overloaded by Hermione’s well-known taste coupled with fingers weaving through her hair, pulling her closer. Minerva lost herself in the passion always thrumming between them, and she smiled contentedly when the kiss broke. “You are addictive, Hermione.”

“Mmm. Just wanted to give you something to look forward to, since I intend to ravish you once we are at the Manor,” Hermione said, her voice roughened by arousal.

Stiffening at the reminder of what troubled her, Minerva pulled back enough to kiss Hermione’s forehead before moving away. She could feel her wife’s eyes following her as she moved into the small kitchen area and prepared their tea. Once ready, she carried the tea service over to the living area and joined Hermione on the sofa. Her brow furrowed as she attempted to gather her thoughts. Her desires were at war with her logic. She wanted to go to the Manor, but her sense of duty directed her to remain at Hogwarts while a possible threat existed against her students.

“I realize you are worried about the Priestly twins,” Hermione began softly. “And I am sure you are troubled with the thought of leaving Hogwarts when there is a chance, no matter how slight, that they may be harmed. But, Minerva, Andy has already indicated that she shall remain here to keep them safe. Filius and Poppy are here, and so are the Aurors. You must know that we will be contacted if anything happens, and we can come back immediately.”

Minerva looked at Hermione, wanting to yield to her desires. Filius, since he semi-retired in January, only retained his duty as the Deputy Headmaster and Head of Ravenclaw House out of a sense of loyalty to Hogwarts and to her. Eventually he would retire fully, but Minerva hoped he would not at the end of this school year. Or the next. Andrea’s agreement to teach in his stead had been a welcome surprise. She wondered whether her niece might change her mind about remaining at Hogwarts past this term if Miranda asked her to return to the States with her.

A gentle touch on her knee redirected her thoughts to Hermione’s words. “You are right, of course,” Minerva said with a sigh. “I do not feel comfortable leaving while a possible threat is present. What if something were to happen while we were safely ensconced in the Highlands? I do not know that I could forgive myself.”

“Nothing will happen, Minerva,” Hermione said. “But, if someone were to attack, you would be notified. If not by the Ministry, then by Andy. Or Filius. Or one of the other professors. And you are connected to the wards, themselves. You would know of the breach immediately.”

Minerva listened to Hermione’s reassurances, wanting to believe, wanting to trust.

“How about this—we’ll remain here for a few more days, and if all seems quiet then we’ll go to the Manor on Monday,” Hermione suggested.

Minerva was touched. Hermione knew her so well. Smiling, Minerva said, “Very well, Gràdh. Thank you.” They drank their tea in companionable silence, just enjoying each other’s company.

“I wonder whether Andy is aware of Miranda’s abilities,” Hermione said softly.

“If not, she will be soon enough, I am sure,” Minerva said. Andrea had left the school grounds to have dinner with Miranda last night, and she had yet to return. Minerva smirked. Clearly, her niece was smitten. It worried her, of course, that Miranda might leave after the dragon mystery was solved, but Andrea was a grown woman. She could take care of herself.

“You think so?” Hermione asked.

“I do. You have seen them together. I dare say our famed Dragon Whisperer has as much chance of resisting Andrea’s charms as I did of resisting yours,” Minerva joked.

“As if you tried!” Hermione scoffed.

“Exactly my point. I did not want to, and neither does she. If they haven’t had a heart-to-heart yet, it will happen very soon.” Minerva rose from the sofa, smiling at her wife as she banished the tea set back to the kitchen. “I must meet with Filius before lunch. Shall I meet you back here in an hour?” At Hermione’s nod, Minerva leaned in for a lingering kiss. “Until then,” she whispered before striding briskly out of their rooms, her mind once again focused on the Ministry’s presence and their students’ safety.


	10. Chapter 10

**Princhek townhouse, London Saturday, April 12, 2014**

Miranda awoke to soft lips on her shoulder, skimming up her neck and resting behind her ear. She sighed with contentment. Keeping her eyes closed, her senses registered Andrea’s body spooned tightly against hers, one arm under Miranda’s pillow, and the other wrapped around her waist. _I could get used to this._ Luscious lips sucked on her earlobe, causing Miranda to groan. Memories of the night before, of the hours of lovemaking they had shared, flashed through her mind. She began to turn over, only to have strong arms prevent her.

“Oh, no you don’t. I have you right where I want you,” Andrea said in a teasing voice, her teeth nipping at her neck.

Miranda shivered. Andrea seemed to know every sensitive spot, every erogenous zone on Miranda’s body, and the younger witch made sure to lavish attention on each one. Miranda had never felt so satiated. She wanted nothing more than to revisit these feelings as often as possible. No, no—not revisit them. She wanted to reproduce them. With Andrea.

A talented hand cupped Miranda’s breast and massaged it gently as a taut thigh parted Miranda’s legs slowly from behind. “Do you know that even while we slept, I was making love with you?” Andrea whispered. “I couldn’t wait to wake up so that I could taste you again, feel you moving against me again,” she continued as Miranda shivered with arousal.

“And yet you slept for an awfully long time,” Miranda teased as she pushed backward, grinding into dark, wiry curls seductively.

“Mmm,” Andrea moaned. “I was trying to figure out just how in my dream I was able to enter you from behind while tasting your addictive breasts,” she whispered.

Whimpering at Andrea’s words, Miranda arched, feeling both her nipples pulled while two hands pulled her hips more firmly into Andrea’s body. _How is she doing this?_ Miranda opened her eyes and looked down, spying Andrea’s hands over her breasts and yet feeling them pulling at her hips in a hypnotic rhythm. She cocked her head, and yes, she saw Andrea’s hands on her waist. _Four hands?!_

“It’s a handy spell,” Andy said in a faux-serious voice. Miranda groaned at the substandard joke. “Okay, I know. That was a poor joke. I used a spell—a couple of spells—so I could love you more completely.”

“And did—,” Miranda interrupted herself by moaning loudly as those hands on her breasts manipulated them masterfully. “I-in your dream, did you figure out the answer to your question?” she asked breathlessly, the thought of it arousing her.

“Not yet, but I have a theory,” Andrea said.

Miranda felt Andrea push her hips forward as she pulled Miranda’s body closer, and she gasped when an extra appendage pushed into her dripping channel. “ _That_ is not a hand,” she whispered, pushing back with a groan as the sensation of being filled so completely made her lose her breath.

“Mmm, no, that was the incantation I used the first time we were together. You seemed to like it,” Andrea said.

Before Miranda could answer, both her nipples were pinched sharply. She gasped and arched again. Another set of hands ran up her thighs, parting them more as Andrea moved slowly in and out. “Oh, God!” Miranda exclaimed, her body reacting forcefully to the various stimuli. “How, how many hands do you have?” she stuttered out just before Andrea’s next thrust hit her sweet spot and pulled a protracted groan from her.

Her eyes closed tightly as she undulated against Andrea’s curvy body. Their rhythm quickened as Andrea sucked on her pulse point. She felt a hand sifting through her hair, fingernails gently scratching her scalp and moaned her approval. She felt so well taken care of, as if every single action was intended to bring her pleasure—which she knew was the truth. When nimble fingers began playing with her clit, she shrieked with delight.

“Well, I’ll give you a hint: octomanus,” Andrea teased as she nipped Miranda’s earlobe, her eight hands working Miranda’s body, overwhelming her senses and pushing her toward a powerful orgasm.

Unable to deny her body’s reactions, not wanting to, Miranda wailed as she climaxed, wave after wave of intense sensation rolling through her as Andrea’s hands relentlessly stroked her, massaged her, stimulated her, and all the while Miranda felt Andrea inside of her, filling her, completing her, satisfying her.

“Andrea,” Miranda whispered. Hands ran over her body enticingly, rubbing her back, her arms, her legs, her stomach as Andrea continued to move against her and inside her with clear intent. Miranda leaned her head against Andrea’s strong shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath. Her own hands rested on Andrea’s arms—those connected to the hands gripping her hips—as their bodies moved in tandem. Miranda did not want these glorious sensations to end, enjoying both the aftershocks and her body’s growing tension as it geared up for yet another extraordinary orgasm.

“You are so sexy, Miranda. I love touching you, feeling you respond to me,” Andrea said, her voice colored with emotion. “God, you drive me crazy. I can’t get enough.”

“You seem to be doing a wonderful job of trying,” Miranda panted as she pushed her ass backward, grinding into Andrea’s body firmly. She smiled when she felt Andrea moan into her shoulder. “Mmm, Andrea, you feel delicious. Oh!” Miranda interrupted herself, distracted by Andrea’s fingers rubbing her bundle of nerves in various patterns. “Harder,” she instructed, clamping a hand on top of those teasing fingers and moving them to where she needed them. “Ah!”

Miranda could feel her inner walls squeezing rhythmically, and she smirked, knowing by the way Andrea’s body jolted against her that her lover was close to losing control. A roar was pulled from Miranda’s mouth as Andrea pushed her over the edge again. Several of Andrea’s arms wrapped around her tightly and turned her on to her hands and knees while other hands— _two, three?_ —pulled her hips up and another continued to stimulate her clit. Miranda could not stop moaning—each thrust pushing further, deeper, touching her so intimately as she tried to brace herself on her arms. She gave in completely, allowing Andrea to ride her, control her, wring out every bit of pleasure from her body. Miranda felt exhilarated, so alive and vibrant.

“Merlin, Miranda! You are so beautiful, so wonderful. I need you so much. I could do this forever,” Andrea said breathlessly, her words flowing over Miranda’s neck as she continued to thrust into her deeply. “I’m gonna—Oh my God, I hope you’re close ’cause I can’t hold out any longer,” she huffed before letting out a loud cry.

The feeling of Andrea climaxing pushed Miranda into another orgasm, and her body shuddered as her world exploded. Vaguely she heard her voice mixing with Andrea’s as she pushed backward over and over, their flesh slapping wetly for countless moments of pure bliss before Andrea pulled out of her and they collapsed into an exhausted heap.

Lethargy filled Miranda. She loved how Andrea felt while draped over her body. Miranda rested serenely in a state of semi-consciousness and heard several words muttered quietly. She felt the extra hands that were holding her so securely disappear as Andrea slid off of Miranda’s back and curled into her side. Noticing that the room was lightening, Miranda turned onto her side so that she could stare into darkened eyes.

“Andrea,” Miranda purred. “Do you have plans for today?”

“Nope. I’m all yours,” Andrea answered brightly. Miranda smiled at the hopeful inflection in her lover’s voice.

“Good. As much as I would love to spend the day in bed with you, I cannot help but think that I should feed you, if only to quiet your extremely demanding stomach,” Miranda said. Before Andrea could squawk, her stomach growled, and Miranda chuckled. “There, you see? Let’s feed you. You certainly worked hard enough for it—it is my understanding that such complex transformations drain a person’s energy resources.” Miranda sat up and turned her head to capture Andrea’s stare, daring her to refute that fact. She could see the war being waged in Andrea’s mind—to get up or remain in bed—and Miranda rose, prompting Andrea to follow suit.

They entered the dining area and found a spread of breakfast foods and drinks laid out for them. Silently Miranda thanked Santie for once again providing for her. She sat down and began filling a plate, pleased when Andrea took her lead without complaint. They ate in a companionable silence, and Miranda enjoyed just being next to the younger woman. _Not so young_ , she reminded herself, _and certainly not as innocent as I once believed._ She felt a smile tug at her lips and did not try to control it. She felt at ease around Andrea, and could admit to herself that she had missed this feeling, missed being near her.

What would the future bring? Miranda was not sure. She knew she wanted Andrea in her life and in her bed, but she needed to put her daughters’ needs first. If they decided to return to New York after they graduated, what would Miranda do? Would she return to New York, to _Runway_ , to what life consisted of before holding this incredible woman in her arms? And what if they wished to remain in the UK? Would Miranda retire, leave _Runway_ , and relocate to the wizarding world where she could be with Andrea? She had no answers.

“Andrea. My daughters will be remaining at Hogwarts this week while I continue to investigate the dragon attacks.” Miranda paused, unsure how to voice her request. She was not used to asking for anything. Normally she would merely voice her demands, and they would be followed. She did not wish to do so with Andrea, though. No, Andrea was not her subordinate, and she knew that whatever became of their future together, she could not treat her in any way but as an equal.

“Miranda,” Andrea said soothingly, silencing Miranda’s internal chatter while placing a warm hand over hers. “Do you want me to keep an eye on them?”

Their eyes connected for long moments. Miranda could see the understanding and willingness clearly in bronze-colored eyes. Smiling softly, Miranda nodded. “If you do not mind.”

“Not at all. Actually, I would feel better knowing they are keeping out of trouble. If it is okay with you, perhaps I’ll even bring them to Hogsmeade on one of the days, as long as it is safe,” Andrea added.

Miranda could feel affection flow through her. Andrea was so giving. She had always known that, always felt taken care of while Andrea was her assistant. And although she had employed countless people over the years to fulfill her requirements, Andrea had always made it seem as if she had enjoyed the challenge of carrying out her assigned duties.

Now, though, she was not an employee. Nor had she been for many years. Andrea had no reason to do anything for Miranda other than that she simply wanted to help her. It touched Miranda, knowing that Andrea gave of herself to such an extent for her. That, in addition to learning so much more about Andrea over the last week, strengthened her allure.

“Thank you,” Miranda said softly. She did not normally feel gratitude, never mind express it, but she was hard-pressed to hold back these feelings. Unlike in the fashion world where such expressed emotions might be seen as a sign of weakness, Miranda knew she could trust Andrea to not exploit such feelings. Andrea’s hand covered Miranda’s forearm and squeezed gently before falling away.

They finished their meal in comfortable silence and by tacit agreement shared a sensual shower. After they had made love and dressed, Miranda led them to her den and to the dragon statues. “Andrea, I want you to hear the clues some of the other statues have provided. I believe I understand what they are telling me, but you may understand a reference that I do not.”

Having heard all of the clues already, Miranda sat down at her desk. She watched Andrea pull out her wand and tap the Norwegian Ridgeback. That was the newest clue and represented the dragon responsible for the last attack. Miranda paused as the powerful dragon’s voice filled her mind.

_The puppet strings are pulled tight, perpetrating horrors in the night. Hear females hissing to stir the fight. They are the ones blocking the light._

She watched as Andrea listened to all the clues, and marveled at Andrea’s natural beauty and strong presence. She was not the same woman she had employed eight years ago. Andrea had grown into her power, and Miranda could practically see the magic emanating off of her luscious body.

After Andrea had finished hearing all the clues, she joined Miranda, seating herself in a chair in front of the desk. Miranda noticed the wand and asked curiously, “What kind of wand do you use?”

“The core is a dragon heartstring, and the wood is holly,” Andrea answered as she handed it over.

Miranda took it carefully, her eyebrows rising in surprise. “And it doesn’t make you ill?”

Andrea chuckled. “I know, huh? Maybe because I can’t smell it? I’m glad it doesn’t. This wand has served me well.”

Thinking about the qualities associated with the wand, Miranda could understand why the wand had chosen Andrea. Dragon heartstring cores were extremely powerful. Charms could be learned quite quickly with these wands, and some of the most powerful members of the wizarding community owned wands with a dragon heartstring core. The holly wood was a rare material for wands, yet it made sense. It symbolized inner beauty, endless energy, generosity, and protection. It would certainly help to contain the power instilled by the dragon heartstring and temper Andrea’s desire to use dark spells. Not that she believed for a moment that Andrea would ever succumb to dark magic.

“It reflects your attributes well,” Miranda murmured.

“Attributes?” Andrea said as she tilted her head in question, a teasing look in her eyes.

Miranda merely smiled and shook her head as she returned the wand.

“What kind of wand do you own?” Andrea asked.

Miranda removed hers from her inner sleeve and passed it to Andrea. “It is hippogriff hair and fir wood.”

“A survivor’s wand?” Andrea asked. “You must have some stories to tell. I have never heard of anyone having a hippogriff hair core, though.”

“Mmm, well, as I am sure you can imagine, anyone who works with dragons regularly is a survivor,” Miranda drawled. She smirked when Andrea chuckled. Noticing the time, she sighed. “Andrea, I must take a conference call with Emily and Nigel in a few minutes. It will take about an hour.” She wanted to ask Andrea to wait, but she did not feel she had the right.

“Oh. Would it be all right if I read near the fire, then, while you work?” Andrea asked. In answer, Miranda leaned forward and kissed her softly.

The conference call reassured Miranda that her faith in Emily and Nigel was not misplaced. Although some difficulties had arisen during her absence, they had already brainstormed possible solutions, and Miranda readily agreed with their ideas. It was good to know that _Runway_ would not fall apart while she was absent. Miranda no longer needed nor wanted the magazine to suffer when she was unavailable. She had trained several key persons over the years so that her legacy would continue once she retired. It heartened her to know that she need not worry while focusing on why the dragon attacks continued to occur.

“Have you always worked for _Runway_?” Andrea asked once Miranda joined her by the lit fireplace.

“No. I actually began my career in the fashion world at _Vogue_ ,” Miranda admitted, amused to see the shocked look on Andrea’s face. “I worked there for three years while Grace Mirabella was the editor-in-chief. When she retired I was passed over, and Anna Wintour was appointed as Grace’s successor. I couldn’t stand the way she arrogantly lorded that promotion over me at every opportunity. So, I took a job at _Runway_ and worked my way up the food chain. Anna isn’t nearly as supercilious to me nowadays,” Miranda finished with a smirk.

With a small laugh Andrea said, “I’ll bet!”

Miranda stared into those mesmerizing eyes before leaning forward for a slow kiss. “I have some work to do,” Miranda began in a quiet voice. “Perhaps in about an hour we can go to Hogwarts to find my daughters?” Miranda was not used to phrasing her plans as questions, but she truly desired to spend more time with Andrea. She smiled at Andrea’s quick agreement and began to review her notes.

Miranda had visited all the attack areas and listened to the dragons’ riddles. It seemed clear that Death Eaters were behind the attacks, coercing the dragons’ actions by threatening their young. And the last riddle indicated that women were behind the attacks. Or maybe it was referring to female dragons—mothers of the young? What of the “hissing to stir the fight”? She needed more information to determine where the next attack might occur, or where the dragons were lodged, or even where to find the Death Eaters responsible. Shaking her head to clear it, she admitted to herself that she could not proceed any further in the investigation with the facts she had.

Tomorrow she would begin visiting the dragon sanctuaries. Hopefully, the dragons could shed some light on the rogue dragons’ actions.

Glancing over at Andrea, Miranda found herself caught in her vibrant gaze. Smiling despite herself, Miranda said gruffly, “What?”

Andrea’s answering smile warmed Miranda. “Nothing, just glad to be with you,” she answered.

Miranda agreed wholeheartedly even as a pang of uncertainly about their future shot through her. She felt her smile fade. She could not afford to think about that right now—best to enjoy their time together than to wonder how they could successfully navigate a relationship.

“What?” Andrea asked, her eyes widening with concern.

Shaking her head, Miranda rose gracefully. “Nothing that can’t wait.” _Nothing I can worry about right now_. “Are you ready to return to Hogwarts?” Miranda patiently bore out Andrea’s penetrating stare, nearly sagging in relief when she dropped the subject and joined Miranda at the fireplace.

“Sure. Let’s go find your girls,” Andrea said, although it was apparent she was still concerned. Taking Andrea’s hand and throwing floo powder into the fire, Miranda stated, “Hogwarts, Charms Master’s Office,” then stepped forward. In the blink of the eye, they were standing in cold ash. Stepping out, Miranda looked around curiously. The last time she had seen this office, it had been while passing through to Andrea’s private quarters. Her cheeks warmed as she thought of that encounter not so long ago. A warm hand squeezed hers, then let go. She hadn’t even realized they were still holding hands.

“Scourgify,” Andrea said while waving her wand over her robes and then Miranda’s garments. Miranda nodded her head in thanks. “Let’s try the Ravenclaw common room, shall we?” Andrea suggested and swept out of the office, her steps faltering for a moment as they entered her classroom.

Stopping so closely to Andrea that she could feel the younger witch’s body heat, Miranda whispered, “I will never forget that day or _that_ table.” She watched as Andrea shivered and chuckled, leaning over to deliver a kiss on her neck. “If we do not leave now, I fear we will not be visiting anyone.” Although that was certainly not a bad proposition, she really did want to see Caroline and Cassidy. She could feel Andrea struggling, her body trembling against her. Hugging her from behind, Miranda whispered, “We will make more memories, Andrea.” This seemed to settle her, and with a sigh Andrea turned her head to deliver a chaste kiss before moving forward, out of Miranda’s loose embrace. Acknowledging how cold she suddenly felt, Miranda hurried to catch up.

They walked through the halls of Hogwarts side by side, not encountering anyone. It was strange. Discounting last week, Miranda had not walked these halls for close to forty years, and yet it looked substantially the same. Same stone walls with rounded arches, same drafty corridors, same moving portraits. Some of the people in the paintings wished Andrea a good day as they swiftly made their way to the Ravenclaw tower on the west side of the castle. A few even recognized Miranda and tossed questions at her, which she promptly ignored.

“It’s rather interesting that you and your family were Slytherins while your daughters are Ravenclaws,” Andrea said. “I wonder why the change occurred.”

Miranda thought about Andrea’s query. “Perhaps because they are not Purebloods,” she suggested.

“I wasn’t under the impression that all Slytherins need be Purebloods. In fact two well-known Slytherins, Severus Snape and Tom Riddle, were half-bloods,” Andrea said.

Miranda pursed her lips in thought. Andrea was correct, of course. “Indeed. Clearly, my girls have different personality traits than those embodied by Slytherins. Whereas Slytherins are ambitious, resourceful, and unwilling to take risks without a clear need, Ravenclaws are intelligent, creative, and willing to fight for a worthy cause. Before attending Hogwarts, my girls proved just how dangerous they could be when not intellectually challenged—I’m sure you recall.” Miranda quirked her lips into a smile when she heard Andrea’s carefree laugh.

Once they reached their destination, they stood before a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. A high-pitched voice asked, “Where do vanished objects go?”

Miranda was intrigued by this barrier to the common room. She looked at Andrea and saw her smirking. Raising an eyebrow at the obvious challenge, Miranda directed her answer to the door knocker. “Into non-being, which is to say, everything.” This was certainly an old riddle based on first-year magical properties. The door clicked open, and they entered into an airy, circular room with arched windows and domed ceilings. The blue and bronze silks draped over the walls were not repulsive, and the furniture looked comfortable and ageless.

“Mom?”

Turning toward the far corner, Miranda saw her daughters seated across from each other in the middle of a game of Wizard’s chess. She smiled when they jumped up and rushed toward her. She hugged and kissed each daughter, reveling in their obvious happiness to see her. As they greeted Andrea respectfully in keeping with the decorum accorded to Hogwarts’ esteemed professors, Miranda felt pride expand her chest. They had matured in so many ways over the years.

“Bobbseys, it is good to see you,” Miranda said as they settled into chairs.

“How is the investigation going?” Caroline asked.

“Have you figured out why the dragons are attacking people?” Cassidy asked.

Miranda sighed. “I have identified the dragons and visited the attack sites. Tomorrow I will begin to visit the dragon sanctuaries to see whether I can gain further insight.” She delivered a stern look to her daughters. “I expect you to keep out of trouble this week. I cannot afford to be worried about you. Andrea will be around if you need anything.” She smiled slightly as they glanced shyly at their professor.

“Yes, of course,” Andrea said. “As a matter of fact, I was hoping the two of you could help me on Monday with a small project.” Miranda watched her daughters’ faces light up with interest.

“Sure, Professor,” Cassidy said. Caroline nodded enthusiastically.

“Great. After breakfast, then.”

Hearing a chime, Miranda rose. “Shall we go to dinner?” She had not realized how late it was, her day spent with Andrea passing much too quickly. Andrea, Caroline, and Cassidy rose, and they quickly made their way down the spiral staircase of Ravenclaw Tower. While the girls chattered happily, Miranda glanced at Andrea, smiling involuntarily at the shining eyes and soft smile directed her way.

Miranda was greatly surprised to see so many students in the Great Hall and said as much. “Where were all these students earlier?”

“Oh, they were probably outside or studying. It was a beautiful day, after all, and many like to take advantage of the good weather by meeting on the grounds. We don’t have that much more time to study for our exams. Both the O.W.L.s and the N.E.W.T.s will be given in only six weeks,” Caroline explained.

“Seven weeks, Caro. Six weeks after break,” Cassidy said.

“You know what I meant!” Caroline exclaimed.

Having missed their voices, Miranda let their friendly bickering wash over her for a moment before interrupting. “Girls, I will speak with you after dinner. Make sure you eat slowly,” Miranda said before following Andrea to the faculty table. She had really wanted to eat with her daughters, but with so many students present, she chose to not embarrass them.

Once they arrived at the front of the hall, Miranda greeted the other professors cordially, participating in small talk as they ate dinner.

“Andy, don’t forget about Tuesday at the Manor,” Hermione said toward the end of the meal.

“Yes, plan to come for dinner, too,” Minerva added.

Miranda tilted her head. _I wonder what they are talking about_.

 _My animagus training_ , Miranda heard clearly. She raised her eyebrows as she glanced to Andrea. Miranda nodded slowly, still a bit thrown by their ability to communicate telepathically.

“And if you are both free on Thursday, we would be happy to have you both over for dinner,” Hermione said.

“Thank you. I must admit to a certain curiosity regarding the famed McGonagall Manor,” Miranda said. “I look forward to Thursday.”

Miranda knew this week would be long and frustrating, but the impending dinner would act as a beacon, beckoning her back to the person who effortlessly illuminated her world. She thought of asking Andrea to help her with the investigation but decided she would rather Andrea be available for her daughters. She trusted Andrea to protect them in her absence.

The idea that her daughters could be harmed while at Hogwarts had never occurred to Miranda before; however, with the way events were unfolding, she was unsure this was the safe haven it had been in the past. Whoever was behind these attacks had a definite plan and would do whatever was necessary to eliminate anyone who attempted to stop them. Perhaps by Thursday she would have more information and could ask Andrea for help then.

Too soon dinner was over and Miranda said her goodbyes to her daughters before returning to Andrea’s office. They stood before the cold fireplace, eyes closed, arms tight around each other. Miranda could hear the wind rattling the closed windows as rain pelted the panes furiously.

“Have a good week, Miranda. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to contact me. Sometimes it helps to have a sounding board,” Andrea whispered.

Luscious lips dotted soft kisses on Miranda’s forehead, her cheek, and, as she tilted her head up invitingly, her lips. They stood a moment longer, lips connected tenuously until, with a sigh of regret, Miranda stepped away. She smiled wanly at Andrea before throwing floo powder into the fireplace. “Thank you, Andrea,” she said softly, holding the younger woman’s gaze before stepping forward and saying, “Princhek townhouse.”

And although the house was warm and the lights were bright as she stepped into her den, Miranda felt a chill blanket her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hogwarts School, Scotland, Monday, April 14, 2014**

Andy looked across the Great Hall and watched as Caroline and Cassidy chatted away with some of their classmates as they ate breakfast. She wondered whether they would approve of her relationship with their mother. Such as it was. Andy had so many questions, yet she dared not voice them, lest they sound like demands. She was afraid that once Miranda finished her work here, she would return to New York. If that happened, would Andy follow her? Would Miranda want her to? Would Andy be willing to leave Hogwarts for Miranda?

Sipping her tea slowly, Andy admitted to herself that she just might, if Miranda asked her to. She would leave Scotland, leave the wizarding world, for her. Because the alternative—not having Miranda in her life—was unacceptable. She felt her eyes water, and she gritted her teeth. Leave it to her to become melancholy when, by all accounts, their relationship was wonderful. Blinking quickly, Andy swiped at the tears which escaped. She drank the rest of her tea before looking around subtly to determine whether anyone had noticed her emotional state.

A soft smile directed her way caused Andy to nod slightly. Aunt Minerva seemed to always know when Andy needed support, even if only through a smile or pat on the arm. She watched her aunt lean toward her. “What are your plans for today, Andrea?” she asked.

“I will be spending some time with the Priestly twins. Miranda asked me to keep an eye on them, and I believe they can help me with a little project I have in mind,” Andy answered.

“That sounds interesting,” Hermione interjected. “What type of project?”

“Oh,” Andy hedged. “It’s a new charm I created to pinpoint magical signatures. I haven’t actually tried it, yet, but if it works, it could help with the investigation of the dragon attacks.”

“All types of magical signatures?” Aunt Minerva asked, her eyebrows disappearing under the brim of her pointy hat.

“Um, that’s the idea. I thought we’d start with using the charm in Hogwarts and then branch out. I am hoping we can detect signatures throughout the UK with the aid of some magical maps,” Andy expanded.

“You’ll have to let us know how it goes when you come to the Manor tomorrow night,” Hermione said.

Andy nodded. “I will.” Noticing a number of students leaving the hall, Andy pushed back her chair and stood. “Are you leaving today?”

“Yes. Do not hesitate to contact us if anything unusual occurs,” Aunt Minerva said as she and Hermione stood.

“Of course. See you tomorrow, then.” Andy smiled at both of them and walked toward Caroline and Cassidy, who remained seated at their table.

“Ready?” Andy asked brightly.

“Yes.”

“Yup.”

Both hopped up and fell into step next to her as they made their way to the Charms classroom.

“How’s Mom?” Caroline asked as soon as Andy had finished sealing the room.

“You just saw her yesterday,” Andy stalled.

“But you spend more time with her, and she wouldn’t want to worry us,” Cassidy said as she plopped into a chair.

“Well,” Andy said as she glanced from one to the other, “she is working hard to figure out why the dragons are attacking people. In addition, she still has work constraints from _Runway_. And she worries about your safety. However, I am hoping that we can help her investigation. That’s why you are here today. I have an idea I want to try.”

“Does Mom know?” Caroline asked.

“She knows we are spending time together today,” Andy said.

“But does she know what we are going to be doing?” she persisted.

“No. If it works, I will let her know immediately. One thing I do not want to do, though, is waste her time with news of failure. You know how much she loves that!” Andy joked. “So,” she continued as she moved to her desk and removed several maps of the UK, “let me explain what I am hoping we can achieve.”

Spreading the maps over several tables—not on the one where she and Miranda had made love—Andy took a deep breath to center herself. “I have devised a spell to track magical signatures. I want to experiment on how far away from us the signature can be located, what type of signatures can be tracked, and whether we can distinguish between signatures that are grouped together.”

Andy pointed to the maps of the Hogwarts’ grounds and surrounding woodland. She moved in front of one of the maps. “We will start locally and spread out. First we will track signatures in Hogwarts and then in the Forbidden Forest. If that proves successful, we will branch out to the countryside. Caroline, I want you to track signatures inside of Hogwarts, and Cassidy,” Andy pointed toward another map of Hogwarts and the surrounding area that she had placed on the next table, “you can track signatures outside the castle but on the grounds that are included within the castle wards. Track the strongest signatures. I will track the weaker signatures. The idea is to determine how many are here and whether the signatures belong solely to humans.”

She looked into the two young women’s bright eyes, noting their interest. Smiling, Andy nodded. The words are veneficum vestigium,” she said. “Move your wand this way.” Andy swished her wand in a small, backwards “s” shape, raising it upward at the end. “You try it,” she urged while watching closely. Pleased with their wand work, Andy directed them to begin while she moved toward another map to concentrate on her self-assigned task.

“Veneficum vestigium,” Andy uttered as she moved her wand. She watched closely as small beads of light floated above different parts of the castle. She concentrated on the areas where she knew no humans were—noticing the different colors and strengths of the small globes illuminated over the map. She began to understand that the blue beads represented the ghosts, green beads represented the house-elves, and white beads represented the house portraits. Humans were represented on a sliding scale of yellow, orange, or red, with red orbs representing the strongest magical signatures and yellow representing the weakest human magical signatures. She noticed that the orbs representing her, Caroline, and Cassidy were different colors: her students were orange beads while hers oscillated between red and bronze.

“Concentrate on the yellow, orange, and red beads,” Andy directed. “They represent humans.”

What she found even more interesting were the beads dotting the area surrounding the castle grounds—a virtual kaleidoscope of colors—which fascinated Andy. After studying the positions and groupings, she was able to determine some of them—a dozen thestrals, a boarhound, several kneazles, and a goblin. Andy started in surprise before realizing the goblin bead of silver was coupled with red. _Filius_. The forest green and red bead was obviously Aunt Minerva and her cat animagus form. She saw gold and red and immediately recognized it as representing Hermione and her phoenix animagus form. She mused that the Forbidden Forest would probably reflect many other magical creatures.

After checking in with Caroline and Cassidy, Andy concentrated on cataloging the different colors, their positions, and her guesses on identifying the different types of magical signatures she saw. It was slow work, but she felt confident that this information would prove invaluable. Caroline and Cassidy were busily writing down what they saw on their maps when a chime sounded, and Andy looked up in surprise. It was time for their midday meal.

Andy was pleased to see that the twins had finished their lists. She would have to cross check them with her results after lunch. “It’s time for lunch. I really appreciate all the work you’ve done,” Andy said as she waved her wand over the maps to clear them of the glowing beads hovering over them.

“Do you need more help after lunch?” Cassidy asked.

“We can come back,” Caroline offered.

“Oh. Well. That would be very helpful to me, but I don’t want to monopolize all of your time,” Andy said.

“We don’t mind,” Cassidy said with a grin. “Right, Caro?”

“Right,” Caroline agreed amiably.

“All right. Meet me back here at three, and we can start looking at the areas outside of Hogwarts.” Andy smiled at them. “Thank you.” She felt warmed by their answering smiles. After watching them leave, Andy took a few minutes to review their work more closely. They had listed the colors attributed to humans, how many for each color, and their placements. She nodded, pleased by their progress.

***

Noticing the time, Andy closed her eyes and rubbed her temples gently. She had spent the rest of yesterday and most of today tracking magical signatures. They had finished tracking those in and around Hogwarts, including the Forbidden Forest, yesterday.

Once they had begun concentrating on areas farther away, the drain on their magic had increased proportionately with the distance from Hogwarts. Andy, Caroline, and Cassidy had finished cataloging magical signatures in the southwestern portion of Scotland yesterday, and Andy had accepted their offer to continue helping her with the project today. She was hoping they could complete the rest of Scotland before she left to join Aunt Minerva and Hermione at the Manor for dinner. More importantly, she wanted to finish mapping Scotland and England by Thursday so that she could present her findings to Miranda when she saw her.

“Professor, may I ask you a personal question?” Caroline broke the silence that had enveloped them for the past few hours.

Andy glanced up to find two pairs of eyes trained on her. Although a bit wary, Andy nodded for Caroline to continue.

“Which House were you in?”

“House?” Andy repeated in confusion.

“Were you a Ravenclaw like us?” Cassidy asked excitedly.

“Oh. No. I mean, I didn’t attend Hogwarts. I attended a wizarding school in the States,” Andy answered.

“You did? Why?” Caroline asked in a confused voice.

“I, that’s, I mean, I’d rather not…” Andy fought with her natural reticence to divulge information about that part of her life. She sighed. If she wanted to create any type of relationship with Caroline and Cassidy, she would have to reveal herself to some extent. Yet, she was still their professor, and she did not feel comfortable sharing family politics with them while they were her students. Finally, she said, “It was due to a falling out between my father and another family member. Although the issue was resolved before I graduated, I chose to continue my education in the States.”

“What was it about?” Cassidy asked.

Andy grimaced. “Ask me again once you have graduated. I will no longer be your professor then, and if you are still interested to know, I will tell you.” She stared at them fully, wanting them to understand she was not merely brushing away their questions.

“Okay. I can understand that. But, you know, you can trust us, Professor,” Cassidy said softly.

Nodding, Andy said, “I do not doubt your discretion, which is why I have revealed even that much. However, since I come from a powerful family line, I would rather not divulge more information about other family members until you are out of school.”

“You mean about the Headmistress,” Caroline stated.

“Yes,” Andy admitted reluctantly. “So, I have a question for you. What are your plans once you graduate?” She flicked her eyes between the two of them, curious to know.

“We are hoping to become Aurors, but they hardly ever have open positions, and it would be even rarer for two positions to be open at once,” Cassidy said.

“And if you cannot become Aurors?” Andy asked.

“We’ve talked about returning to New York,” Cassidy said with a grimace.

“I think it would be boorrrinng!” Caroline said firmly.

“Well, I can understand your concern. Living in the Muggle world does seem a bit two-dimensional after living in the wizarding world for so long. However, New York is full of options. I lived there for several years after finishing my schooling, and I found it challenging in other ways,” Andy said.

“That’s just because you worked for our Mom. She’s as challenging as fighting dragons,” Cassidy chuckled.

Andy couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I am kind of hoping that working for your mom was a wee bit harder,” she said with a smirk.

Their infectious laughter filled Andy’s heart with joy. She would have to speak to her aunt about the chances of two Auror positions becoming available within the next few months. Aunt Minerva often was privy to information within the wizarding world that Andy was not.

Once their laughter trailed off, Andy once more became serious. “You both have the intelligence and fortitude to become excellent Aurors. I have no doubt that if the positions become available, you will both be accepted into their training program. However, if nothing opens up immediately, I hope you will consider working at the Ministry or becoming an apprentice in one of the disciplines. Your mother has always wanted you to do what makes you happy. I do not believe she would be content with your presence in New York if you did not truly want to be there.”

Andy noted their thoughtful expressions and dropped the subject. She was sorely tempted to say more—to persuade them to remain in the UK. If they remained, Andy believed Miranda would at least visit from time to time. And that would give Andy more opportunities to be with the fascinating woman. Shaking her head, Andy focused on the map before her. She would not manipulate Miranda’s daughters in that way. If Miranda wanted to be with her, they would find a way.

 _And if she asks me to come back to New York with her?_ Andy truly did not know. She had made a commitment to Hogwarts and its Headmistress. She certainly did not want to break her word. Yet, her aunt would understand. McGonagalls were slow to give their hearts away, but once done, they loved passionately, wholeheartedly, and irrevocably.

For better or worse, Andy had given her heart to Miranda.

Only time would reveal whether Miranda returned her feelings. The passion was present, along with a healthy respect for each other and a feeling of rightness. Whether Miranda would feel that was enough to build upon remained to be seen. Although their connection was undeniable, Miranda might not be willing to change her life for love, particularly since she had given up so much for her first husband, with heartbreaking results.

After another hour of painstaking work, Andy called an end to their day. They had finished Scotland and begun to track the northern part of England, but there was much more to do. “Thank you, Caroline. Cassidy.” Andy nodded to each one and smiled. “Your help has been invaluable.”

“We can help you tomorrow,” Cassidy offered.

“Thank you. After lunch then. Have a good night,” Andy said as she cleared the maps and rolled them up.

“You too, Professor,” Caroline said, similar words echoed by Cassidy.

After removing all evidence of their project from the classroom, Andy returned to her bedroom to freshen up and change clothes. She was tired from the extended use of her magic, but she was pleased with how much they had accomplished in merely two days. In fact, she had determined which color represented dragons—bronze—by locating the dragon sanctuary run by the MacFusty clan on the Hebrides archipelago off of the west coast of Scotland. Sinking on to her bed, Andy began to rethink her immediate dismissal of Miranda’s belief that Andy’s animagus was a dragon. Andy’s magical signature of red and bronze, her ability to communicate with Miranda and the dragon statues telepathically, and her detailed dreams were all pointing toward that conclusion.

Last night she had dreamt once more of flying high in the sky, only this time she had swooped toward the ground at a remarkable speed while fire spewed from her mouth in great waves toward a group of Death Eaters. She had felt anxiety and fear flooding her system, urging her to fly faster, to reach those she loved who were fighting for their lives below her. When she had awoken, Andy had felt as if she had been dipped in a vat of lava. Sweat had rolled down her back, dripping on to dampened sheets. Her hair had flopped over her eyes, as wet as after taking a shower. And her clothes had stuck to her body, exacerbating her high internal body temperature by trapping the heat within the fabric of her pajamas.

She would have to discuss this with Aunt Minerva and Hermione. Perhaps they could provide her with some insight.

Andy got ready quickly, only pausing to run her hand over the block of blue chalcedony currently resting on her vanity. She hadn’t had time to work on it lately. Of course, she had several months before Miranda’s next birthday, but she hadn’t lied to Miranda when she had mentioned that it took a long time to create the dragon statues. _Soon. I will work on it some more soon._ With a small smile, Andy swept out of the room to her office so that she could floo over to McGonagall Manor.

As she stepped out of the fireplace, she smiled and pecked Aunt Minerva’s cheek. “Good evening, Aunt Minerva. Thank you for having me over.”

“Oh, please! You know you are welcome here at any time,” the venerable Headmistress said.

Andy stepped up to Hermione and kissed her cheek in greeting. “Good evening, _Aunt_ Hermione,” she said with a cheeky grin. Andy barely dodged a slap to her arm.

“Don’t you start that again! You know I don’t want you to call me that! It makes me feel old,” Hermione said with a chuckle.

“Well, I figure I’ll just try it every so often and see how it strikes you,” Andy said.

“Not so well today. Let’s continue with just Hermione.”

“As if there is anything _just_ about you,” Aunt Minerva muttered.

“Exactly,” Andy agreed with a smirk as they moved into the dining room to eat.

Dinner was as relaxing and joyful as always. Andy had spent much time in the Manor over the years, and consequently she never felt like a mere guest.

Toward the end of the meal, Hermione asked her whether she had experienced any more dreams. Andy took the opportunity to relate the latest one, as well as her growing belief that her animagus might be a dragon. Andy expected them to brush off such a fanciful idea, but they did not.

“It is not out of the realm of possibility,” Aunt Minerva said slowly. “After all, Hermione, as you well know, turns into a phoenix and has all the magical traits indicative of that creature.”

“And the clues you just related do all point to that conclusion. Now, we just have to get you there,” Hermione said. She clapped her hands together and jumped up. “Right. So, what you need to do is think back to how you felt during your dream.”

“Perhaps we should take this out to the courtyard,” Aunt Minerva said quickly. “If your animagus is a dragon, you might need more space in which to transform.”

They walked outside, and Andy breathed in the crisp night air deeply. “It is a lovely night,” she commented with a smile. She felt energy flow through her as she settled her mind. She could hear the instructions being given to her as she focused on the dream. Their words floated gently on the spring breeze, mere murmurings as she visualized her body becoming larger and larger. More immense. More powerful. She opened up her senses and tipped her head back, her eyes closed and arms spread wide. Warmth spread through her, much as she had felt when she had awakened from her dream, and she breathed it in deeply, welcoming it.

Opening her eyes, she realized that neither her aunt nor Hermione were speaking any longer. She looked across the courtyard, only to notice that she could see straight into the Manor’s top floor windows. Andy tilted her head downward and saw two stunned expressions. She said, “What’s happened?” only it sounded like an inquisitive roar. Twisting her head, she saw cerulean blue scales covering her shoulders, sides, flanks, and wings. Wings! Andy stretched her arms out before her and inspected her razor-sharp claws and smooth scales. She flexed her shoulders and felt her wings twitch. Her chest, a mixture of silver and light blue scales, puffed up as she breathed in deeply with pride. She had never seen a dragon like her!

Experimentally, Andy flapped her wings gently. She could see how hard it was for her aunt and Hermione to remain standing near her as the wind she generated hit them. Crouching low, Andy pushed off, flapping more forcefully, screeching out joyfully as she swooped over the Manor. She was amazed at how fast she was traveling—each flap of her wings propelled her forward impressively. Searching below her she saw the ocean sparkling in the moonlight, and far below the waves crashed on to jagged rocks. Wheeling around, Andy began her trek back to McGonagall Manor, only now realizing how far she had traveled and how weary she felt.

Lessening the force of her wing strokes, Andy circled over the courtyard before dropping her legs forward and landing heavily. _I’ll have to work on that_ , Andy grimaced, noticing that she had overturned a few stones. She folded her wings back and leaned on her hind legs to rest.

Aunt Minerva and Hermione both approached slowly. Andy wished she could communicate with them—let them know she would not do anything to harm them. She lowered her muzzle to the ground and smiled at them, causing them to stop in their tracks. _Hmm, maybe smiling wasn’t the best way to placate them._

After a few moments during which Andy remained still, they walked to her side and touched her shoulder hesitantly.

“Wow!” Hermione exclaimed. “This is incredible!” Andy watched as Hermione turned toward Aunt Minerva. “Have you ever seen a dragon like this? It’s like a cross between a Swedish Short-Snout and a Hebridean Black.”

Aunt Minerva nodded her head pensively as she stared at Andy. “Yes, you are certainly different from any dragon I have ever seen. I look forward to finding out what special skills you may have at your disposal.” Andy felt relieved by Aunt Minerva’s warm gaze and reassuring words. She felt her aunt rub her snout affectionately. “You must be tired. Change back, dear, and we’ll go inside.”

Andy blinked for a moment before slowly standing up, making sure not to inadvertently hurt Aunt Minerva and Hermione with her bulk. She thought of her human form and felt as if she were being squished into a small compartment. A blanket of exhaustion made her stumble, and strong arms caught her before she fell to the cobblestone. Hermione supported her on the left and Aunt Minerva on the right as they half-carried Andy into the Manor and deposited her on the sofa.

“Let me get you some water,” Hermione said. Andy nodded, even that small action nearly too much for her at that moment.

“Andrea, you will find that the more you change, the less tired you will become. You must do so every day. That way your body will adapt to the transitions and use less of your energy stores,” Aunt Minerva advised.

“Here,” Hermione said as she extended a filled goblet to Andy, who took it in both hands thankfully. “Your body will be sore as the muscles change. Damn! You are going to be muscular! You are a good-looking dragon,” she teased.

Smiling at Hermione’s words, Andy relaxed into the sofa and rested the goblet on her thigh. “That was amazing. I can’t wait to transform again. I wish I could see myself fully. Perhaps if I fly over the water during the day…”

“Or, I can take a picture for you,” Hermione offered.

“Oh, right! That’s a better idea. I’ll bring my camera over next time, and we can do a photo shoot of sorts,” Andy said.

“Miranda might become jealous, you know,” Hermione said. “She might want you in a full-body spread.”

“Hermione!” Andy exclaimed, slapping her on the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that!” Andy could feel her face heating up in embarrassment.

“Oh, come on! We are all adults here, and it’s no secret that you two are together,” Hermione said, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

As true as Hermione’s words were, she was not yet at a place where she could talk about her sex life with anyone, never mind with her aunt in the room. “Still, I just, I’d rather not—” Andy sputtered.

“All right, that is enough, I think. Here, Andrea, have some chocolate. Then, I think a bath might be beneficial to you, and bed. You can stay here tonight,” Aunt Minerva interjected.

Docilely, Andy made her way upstairs and did exactly as her aunt suggested.

Right before falling asleep, Andy felt exhilaration rush through her. One thought reverberated through her soul: _I’m a dragon!_


	12. Chapter 12

**McGonagall Manor, Scotland, Wednesday, April 16, 2014**

Minerva sat at the kitchen table, tea cooling before her as she gazed blankly through the window. Andrea had just left the Manor barely an hour before, and Minerva was still perplexed by all that had occurred the previous night.

To think that Andrea’s animagus was a dragon!

Maybe it was just Andrea and Hermione’s generation—an age of genetically advanced humans, based upon the Darwinian theory of survival of the fittest. It was particularly intriguing since magical creatures such as phoenixes and dragons were rare and exotic. Their numbers were slowly but steadily declining. And now they have propagated themselves in a new way. A startling way. A way that opened up endless possibilities for both magical creatures and humans.

Minerva could not help but envy their ability to morph into such unique forms. Her animagus was a simple tabby cat. Of course, the few people who had mastered an animagus form before Hermione and Andrea’s generation also had transformed into ordinary, nonmagical animals: a cat, a wolf, a rat, a stag. Idly, Minerva wondered which magical creature might reflect her personality traits.

It was true that when she had mastered her animagus form so many decades before, she had reflected the traits of a tabby cat. Silent, stoic, independent, clever, mysterious, and intuitive—just some of the traits represented by a cat. And although she still reflected all of these traits, she had changed over the years—grown as responsibilities, heartbreak, war, and love had entered her life, marking her indelibly.

Minerva wondered whether being a Muggle-born made any difference. No. Andrea was a pureblood, so that theory would not apply to her. Muggles did form part of the McGonagall line, however. Perhaps, then, their ancestry had contributed new DNA strands, strengthening and adding to the complexity of their genetic encodings. Wizarding scientists were getting closer and closer to explaining why some people had magical abilities while others did not—maybe this was just another clue in the mysterious puzzle of evolution. Perhaps purer wizarding lines were unable to master the animagus form of a magical creature simply due to the fact that their genetics did not include any new chromosomal pairings in comparison to those added through the struggle to survive and thrive without magic that Muggles had experienced. These evolutionary changes might have also been the result of punctuated equilibrium—the wizarding wars having added the necessary pressure to the evolutionary system to force such awe-inspiring genetic mutations.

Fingers running gently through her hair and loosening her bun brought Minerva’s attention back to the present. She looked into concerned, bronze-colored eyes and smiled, receiving a tender kiss a moment later.

“Hello, Gràdh,” Minerva said softly once the kiss ended. Hermione’s lovely face hovered closely, and Minerva took the opportunity to frame it with her hands, pulling it toward her gently. As their mouths meshed into another exquisite kiss, Minerva sighed with relief. No matter what was occurring in their world, no matter how much she aged or what her animagus form was, Hermione loved her, had pledged herself to her, would always remain by her side. Moaning at the feeling of a talented tongue sliding against hers, Minerva lost herself in her wife’s love. When she finally opened her eyes, struggling to breathe, she realized that Hermione had straddled her and was gently rocking against her.

Eyes burned into hers with an ardent fervor that lit Minerva’s passion. She wrapped her arms around Hermione and pulled the wards toward her. They apparated into their bedroom, landing on the bed with a loud crack rending the silence.

Without pause, Minerva pulled Hermione’s head forward and engaged her in a heated kiss. Minerva could feel the warmth generated from Hermione’s center as she ground her body against her. It stirred Minerva’s desire with a hunger that consumed her. She flipped Hermione over and pushed her body between her wife’s toned legs, growling at the exquisite feeling and wanting more.

“Exue,” Minerva muttered, moaning as Hermione’s fingers skimmed down her newly unclothed arms restlessly. She sank into Hermione’s warmth, groaning loudly as she felt Hermione wrap her legs around Minerva’s waist, opening herself fully. Minerva refused to give up swollen lips, choosing to keep up the onslaught of kiss after kiss as they moaned into each other’s mouths and fought to breathe through their noses.

Finally, Minerva released those luscious lips and delivered small kisses across Hermione’s pixie face, feeling a cherished smile flex against her lips before she lightly grazed her teeth against Hermione’s throat and stalled at the pulse point. She could feel the rapid flutters against her lips, communicating Hermione’s excitement. Minerva felt her lips stretch in a feral smile, borne of possessiveness and triumph. Hermione was hers, just as she had given herself to Hermione so many years ago.

The sun’s rays streamed through the semitransparent drapes into the room, caressing Hermione’s flawless skin. Pausing, Minerva gazed down at her wife, whose chest was flushed with arousal, eyes darkened with passion, and body taut with sexual tension. Minerva licked her lips in anticipation before swooping in to take one of Hermione’s heaving breasts into her mouth. She heard her wife squeal even as strong hands pulled her closer. Sucking with a gentle pressure, Minerva allowed her hands to wander down Hermione’s sides and grip her buttocks, pulling her body closer still. Pushing her body upward rhythmically, Minerva continued to pay homage to Hermione’s gorgeous breasts, alternating from one to the other as she continued her body’s motions.

“Merlin, I could make love to you every day, and it would not be enough,” Minerva muttered.

“Minerva!” Hermione exclaimed as Minerva gently bit on a hardened nipple and ran a finger over Hermione’s engorged clitoris. Minerva reveled in the wetness she found weeping from Hermione’s center, and she allowed her finger to play in it for a moment before bringing it to her mouth to taste. Groaning at the enticing proof of Hermione’s arousal, Minerva shimmied downward and situated herself between Hermione’s legs. Without pause, she licked forcefully and rejoiced in the shouts emitted above her.

Too soon Hermione climaxed, and Minerva eagerly licked up the liquid as it flowed over Hermione’s inner thighs, mewling as the distinctive flavor hit her taste buds. She felt hands pulling at her head and shoulders and looked up into burning eyes.

“Come here,” Hermione said urgently.

Sliding against Hermione’s body, Minerva braced herself on her hands and looked into bright eyes. She couldn’t help pressing her body against a flexing thigh, her need great after loving Hermione. She felt two fingers enter her swiftly and bucked. “Hermione,” she gasped.

“I love you so much, Minerva. My life would be empty without you. Unbearable. Nothing would matter, and I would have no reason to live. You are everything to me. My light. My love. People try all their lives to figure out what their purpose in life is,” Hermione whispered as she held Minerva close, her other hand resting on Minerva’s hip, guiding her movements as she sped up her thrusts. “I know mine—have known since I saw you on the day we finally defeated Voldemort—I am here for you, to love you, to be by your side, to experience life with you. And so you see, my dear love,” Hermione said, her voice raspy, “you must never leave me, for I shall not survive it.”

Minerva shuddered as Hermione’s words pierced her heart. She understood what she was hearing, but she could hardly believe it. Could it be true? Did Hermione love her that much? Looking into serious, teary eyes, Minerva fell over the edge, crying out as the orgasm consumed her, pushing her body through several moments of bliss, all while her eyes remained locked with the expressive eyes of the incredible creature lying below her.

Her body spent, Minerva laid her head on Hermione’s chest. She closed her eyes and listened to the pounding heart below her ear as she caught her breath. Fingers ran through her hair hypnotically, scratching her scalp and massaging behind her ears. Minerva hummed. She kissed the skin beneath her and sighed, squeezing Hermione’s body as she burrowed into it more.

“Hermione,” Minerva murmured, her mind swirling with what Hermione had said.

“Mmm, you do not need to say anything,” Hermione said.

Lifting her head, Minerva brushed her lips against Hermione’s softly. “I do. You must know I feel the same way, but with your animagus form you have the potential to live for hundreds of years. I do not like to think that you would give up your life when I die. No,” Minerva said sternly when Hermione turned her head to the side, refusing to look at her. “Hermione, we have to talk about this. I will in all probability die well before you. Please, at least think about this. I do not want you to give up. You have so much to offer. And if you refuse to consider being with anyone else once I die, at least contemplate remaining alive.”

“How can you ask that of me?” Hermione asked heatedly. “And don’t be so sure that you will die. I can heal you with my phoenix tears. Who knows what other properties they may contain. It is possible it may slow your aging. I have every intention of conducting experiments. If there is a way for us to live together for much longer than anyone has ever imagined, then we shall.”

Hermione pulled Minerva into a passionate kiss.

“I welcome every day I am able to share with you,” Minerva said.

“Good. Because I expect you to make good on your offer to make love to me every day, if not more,” Hermione said, a cheeky grin covering her beautiful face.

“If I must,” Minerva said with a put-upon voice, smiling as Hermione’s laughter filled the room. She leaned in for another kiss before sliding her body to the side and propping herself up on an elbow. “I found what Andrea is doing to track magical signatures quite intriguing.”

“No kidding. That’s so far past the abilities of the Marauder’s Map. I bet the Ministry of Magic would be extremely interested in that spell. I worry, though, at the privacy issues,” Hermione said.

“Well, unlike the Marauder’s Map, it does not identify specifically who or what each magical signature represents,” Minerva said.

“True. She said she was going to work on it today with the hope that she could finish reviewing the rest of England. That’s pretty ambitious."

“Yes,” Minerva agreed. “However, since she is focusing more on magical creatures, I think it will be a bit easier than we may initially imagine. And if she does find magical signatures for dragons, it is likely to represent where the rogue dragons are being held.”

“Don’t you think their signatures might be hidden somehow, perhaps with a disillusionment charm?” Hermione asked.

“No. From what Andrea has told us, her spell seems to track all magical signatures. It is a powerful spell,” Minerva mused. “You are correct to believe the Ministry will be interested in it. I dare say they will have a grand time testing it and devising all manner of spells to defend against such a spell.”

“It surprises me that the Priestly twins are able to use the spell,” Hermione mused.

“Well, Andrea told me that it has tired them significantly as they have applied it to areas farther away from the school. In fact, Andrea has them working on Northern Ireland while she concentrates on England,” Minerva said.

“That makes sense. I am sure that they feel useful helping, as if they are helping their mother, too,” Hermione noted. “I know when Harry, Ron, and I were in school, we wanted to somehow help defeat Voldemort.”

“And you did. You were the tipping factor, the reason why we were successful,” Minerva said.

“We all had our parts, Minerva. You kept Hogwarts safe and gave us a place where we could return,” Hermione answered as she ran a hand over Minerva’s arm before resting it on her hip.

“Safe,” Minerva said with a frown. “It was not safe. The Carrows were torturing students for the most minor infractions while Severus looked the other way.”

“I know,” Hermione said softly. “It was a difficult time for all of us. Yet, you remained in front, providing comfort and guidance for the students and faculty not under Voldemort’s influence. You never contemplated leaving, even though your life was in danger. I have always admired your courage.”

Hermione rolled onto her side so that their fronts barely touched. Minerva gazed into glowing eyes and could not resist cupping Hermione’s cheek. “You are the courageous one,” she whispered. “And I find you irresistible.”

“Good thing you need not resist,” Hermione said huskily before leaning in for a kiss.

Any thought of getting up promptly fled Minerva’s mind as she fell willingly under Hermione’s spell. Her body reacted forcefully, demanding she take all that was offered.

And she did. Multiple times. Until they fell asleep well-sated.

When she awoke several hours later, she noticed with satisfaction the various love bites she had sprinkled over her lover’s body. She knew they would fade within a few hours. Hermione’s health had improved drastically once she had mastered her animagus form. Scratches and bruises did not remain long. And when Hermione hurt herself more seriously, they poured phoenix tears over the area to heal it. They had several vials of the potent elixir stored at the Manor and at Hogwarts for such occasions.

Stretching her body languidly, Minerva grinned. She felt wonderful. Relaxed. Lethargic. Loved. Rising carefully to avoid waking Hermione, Minerva entered the bathroom to relieve her bladder and splash her face with some cool water before descending the stairs to find her house elf, Elsa. It was a gorgeous spring afternoon. She had high hopes that she could entice Hermione to join her for a picnic on the moorland behind the Manor. The heather was fragrant and soft—perfect to roll around in.

“Elsa,” Minerva called as she entered the kitchen. With a popping noise, Elsa appeared before her. Minerva made her request and after arranging for the meal made her way upstairs with a glass of water. Placing it on the bedside table, Minerva ran her hand over Hermione’s muscular back in a soothing manner until brown eyes fluttered open. A smile covered Minerva’s face at the soft, open expression directed her way. “Good afternoon, my sleepy lass. Would you fancy a shower and then a picnic outside?”

Hermione sat up and hugged Minerva tightly. Minerva could feel the rumble of her wife’s voice against her chest as she agreed. They remained in their embrace for several more moments before moving to the shower. Minerva washed Hermione’s body with care, making sure she touched every inch of her wife’s body with sensuous strokes. She smiled when Hermione finally could not take it anymore and pulled her forward for an endless kiss. It astonished Minerva how the passion was constantly pulsing between them. She felt grateful, humbled by this gift she had been given, this undying, all-encompassing love.

Once they finally stumbled out of the shower, they dressed and walked the well-worn path up the hill behind the Manor. They crested the rise and strolled slowly across the moorland toward the picnic that was set up near the cliffs. Minerva breathed in the salty ocean air and felt her spirits soar. Her homeland always affected her so. Having Hermione next to her, holding her hand tightly as they traversed the mystical land, filled her with a feeling of rightness. Minerva turned to Hermione and drew her in for a kiss, holding her body closely. “Tha gràdh agam ort,” she murmured.

“I love you, Minerva. So much,” Hermione said. They rested their foreheads together before sitting on the blanket already spread over the heather. “It should be interesting to watch Miranda and Andy interact tomorrow night,” Hermione said as she placed food onto her plate.

“Yes. Although Andrea has never been one to hide her feelings, I am curious to see how Miranda acts around her. I am also hoping to hear that Miranda has made some progress on the investigation,” Minerva said. She poured some firewhiskey into their glasses and raised hers to make a toast. “To you, mo Gràdh. Every day I am humbled by your love. Thank you for sharing your life with me.” A broad smile was directed Minerva’s way, and she felt love flow through her, warming her body.

“You really have no idea, do you?” Hermione said softly.

Minerva, not sure what Hermione meant, looked into her wife’s eyes and began to worry when she saw tears gathering. “What is it?” Minerva reached over and grasped Hermione’s hand. She felt it trembling and could not stand that Hermione was in distress.

“Minerva, _you_ are the gift. You trusted me, gave me your heart. Every day that I awaken next to you, I fight tears because I am so overwhelmed with gratitude,” Hermione said, her voice growing stronger with each word. “You enrich my life. So, thank you, love. Thank you.”

Minerva could do nothing but lean forward to kiss welcoming lips. She was amazed by the strength of their love. Smiling against Hermione’s lips, Minerva broke the kiss and leaned back. “If we keep this up, we may fade away from hunger,” she joked.

They spent an enjoyable afternoon eating, talking, and appreciating the mild weather. Eventually, they made their way back to the Manor and cuddled on the sofa in front of the fireplace. It was a peaceful evening, seeped with affection as Hermione leaned against Minerva, who held her securely with one arm as she read an old tome. Every so often they would gaze at each other and smile as they melded into another kiss.

“Minerva, I’d like you to consider something for me and not give me your answer today,” Hermione broke the comfortable silence, her hands grasping Minerva’s arm in a strong grip.

Minerva could feel her wife’s anxiousness and sought to soothe her by hugging her closely to her body as she ran a hand through her copper-colored close-cropped hair. “You know you can ask me anything, Hermione. Anything at all.”

“Yes. I do.” Hermione remained quiet for another moment, and Minerva gave her the space she needed to formulate her words. “I have been thinking about this for quite a while, and although I cannot foresee the repercussions or think of any ways in which it would be detrimental, I hesitate to suggest it simply because no one has done it before.” Minerva felt her wife take a deep breath before turning her head to meet her eyes. “I want you to consider drinking phoenix tears each day, an amount we can determine together, with the goal of improving your health and perhaps slowing your aging process.”

Minerva stiffened in surprise as her eyes widened. She stared blankly at Hermione, trying to digest the request while her mind flittered through the myriad of possibilities. She did not believe drinking phoenix tears would hurt her, but no one had actually done so before. And to drink it each day? But then again an infinite supply was not readily available to anyone else. She blinked several times, on the verge of asking why Hermione would ask this of her before stopping at the look she found buried in chocolate eyes: hope and fear. It was the fear that stopped her words.

They had discussed Minerva’s possible death occurring well before Hermione’s death many times, even just this morning. Evidently, it weighed heavily on Hermione’s mind, pushing her to find a way to keep Minerva by her side for as long as possible. Minerva felt her eyes tear, overcome with love for her soul mate. She leaned in and kissed Hermione fiercely.

“Hermione,” Minerva murmured, her voice breaking. “I do not need to think about it. I will do it. For you. For us.” Noticing the relief flooding Hermione’s face, Minerva pulled her forward and held her tightly. Any lingering skepticism she might have harbored regarding Hermione’s earlier claims that she could not live without Minerva faded away. She finally understood. She kissed the side of Hermione’s head and murmured in her ear, “You are so precious to me.”

Tears slid down Minerva’s cheeks, falling faster and faster as she felt Hermione’s body wracked with shudders. Hearing her wife sobbing nearly broke her heart. “Shhh,” Minerva said as she rocked Hermione back and forth slowly. “I am not going anywhere. Tha gràdh agam ort. I love you. I will do everything in my power to remain with you. I love you. Tha gràdh agam ort.” Over and over, Minerva uttered soothing words, heartened by how Hermione’s body sank into hers as her sobs turned into sniffles before stopping altogether. She did not release Hermione, who tucked her face into Minerva’s forearm. Minerva burrowed her face into Hermione’s neck and breathed in her distinctive, pleasing scent.

Feeling Hermione’s body become pliable and still, Minerva leaned back to find her wife had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Smiling gently, Minerva pulled the wards toward her and apparated into their bedroom, much as she had done this morning. Hermione’s eyelids fluttered, and Minerva murmured, “Close your eyes, love. I have you.” She tucked her wife under the covers carefully before rising to complete her ablutions.

Standing before the bathroom mirror, Minerva stared at her reflection. She studied the lines on her face, the aged skin, the receding hairline, and the milky complexion. Would phoenix tears really slow down the ravages of time against her body? Would it perhaps even reverse the aging process? They had no way of knowing. She would have to have Hermione take a picture of her before she began drinking the proposed elixir of life, their own version of the Holy Grail.

Minerva slid into bed and gathered Hermione into her arms. She delivered a chaste kiss to Hermione’s forehead and closed her eyes, looking forward to sharing the next day, and all the upcoming days, with the love of her life. Never had life offered so much.


	13. Chapter 13

**Princhek townhouse, London, Thursday, April 17, 2014 (aka the never-ending day)**

A roar broke the early morning silence, jolting Miranda awake. She sat up as she heard more roars fill the air. Annoyed, Miranda’s muddled mind tried to recapture the kiss she had just experienced in her dream. _Andrea._ Oh, how she missed the younger witch. Miranda hadn’t seen her since Sunday. She craved Andrea’s touch. If her work did not hinge upon the life and death of others, she would have kidnapped Andrea days ago and locked them both in a bedroom. It made her wonder how she would have acted if they had begun this _thing_ while they were both in New York City. Would she have skipped work, turned her back on _Runway_ , to whisk Andrea away to a secluded area? Surprisingly enough, she was quite sure that is exactly what she would have done.

To think that she had wasted so much time, so many years. At least she would see her tonight at McGonagall Manor for dinner—provided, of course, that their plans did not change.

Seeing the flash of flames lighting up the shadowed hallway, Miranda rose quickly and strode toward her den while combing her hair back from her eyes with her fingers. She stopped short at the door, stunned. The Hebridean Black statue was animated, though she had not activated it with her wand. It flew in wide circles, spewing fire through the cool morning air.  

A booming voice invaded Miranda’s mind.

_Look to sky, Dragon Whisperer. Protect my land. Protect my clan. Beware of those who seek to destroy you and your kin._

_What do you mean look to the sky?_ Miranda questioned silently. _Is a dragon attack occurring here?_ She tilted her head back as if she would be able to see the dawning day through her ceiling.

 _My land, Dragon Whisperer. Go to Skye_ , the Hebridean thundered before roaring fiercely. Its purple eyes glowed with fury.

Miranda felt ridiculous. Of course the Hebridean was referring to the Isle of Skye, one of the islands of the Inner Hebrides in Scotland. She rushed to her bedroom to change, donning ebony dragon leather pants and matching boots, a warm rum-colored jumper, and a long ebony dragon leather coat. The leather would protect her not just from the elements, but also from dragon fire and several types of spells.

Returning to the den, Miranda pulled out a map of Scotland and studied the Hebridean area. She needed to focus so she could apparate to the remote island. She wondered whether the attack was occurring at the dragon sanctuary that the MacFusty clan ran. She hadn’t had time to visit that one, yet. If memory served, it was on the island of Skye. She should probably begin there. Staring at the map for several minutes, Miranda gritted her teeth.

Then she apparated into chaos.

Instinctually, Miranda crouched and scuttled behind a large boulder. The sky lit up momentarily as a gigantic Hungarian Horntail let loose a long stream of fire. A female, she realized. Miranda raised her head enough to look around and saw several people running after the dragon, their wands waving in the air as various spells jetted from them. Most spells missed their marks, and the few that reached the dragon seemed to bounce off her black hide. The dragon wheeled in the air and dove toward the group of wizards, her maw opened in preparation of releasing another cascade of flame. Fire bounced off an invisible bubble which protected them, and Miranda sighed with relief. She noticed how several men, rather than wearing wizarding robes, wore heavy wool jumpers and tartan kilts. She realized they must be members of the MacFusty clan, responsible for running the dragon sanctuary here where the Hebridean Blacks lived.

The dragon stopped her attack when she realized the wizards’ protective spells were preventing the flames from reaching her target. She screeched her frustration before changing course, heading for the structures. Miranda knew what lay beyond the large hill directly ahead. Miranda could hear roars coming from that direction and guessed that another dragon was wreaking havoc there. At least one.

 _Stop!_ Her mind shouted at the Hungarian Horntail, hoping to disrupt the dragon’s plans. She was confounded to find that she could not hear the dragon’s thoughts. Normally, it was like tuning in to a particular radio station. She would just focus on the dragon near her and hear the thoughts as easily as she could hear the voice of anyone conversing with her. Now, though, she heard only a weak voice spitting forth fractured words.

_My eggs…attack…dark magic….must…all gone…_

A yowl filled the air as the dragon changed directions, once more focusing on the wizards attempting to stun her. Enough of them had banded together to direct a powerful combined stun, pushing the dragon backward.

Miranda continued to hide behind the large rock while attempting to mentally batter the dragon’s mind. It was as if she were punching a brick wall. She tried to find an access point, somewhere that would allow her to infiltrate the dragon’s mind. Finally, she turned to legilamency to punch through the block. She hated using this method—invading another’s mind—but she felt she had no choice. Her body trembled as she concentrated on the images she saw streaming through the dragon’s consciousness.

_Death Eaters using the Imperius Curse on her and five other dragons…watching as the dark wizards destroyed several dragons’ eggs, including one of her own…hearing the threat that the rest of the dragons’ eggs would be destroyed if the dragons did not do as they were directed…attacks on people and property…flights to a rural, mountainous area near a moorland covered with purple heather where they were instructed to remain until otherwise directed._

Miranda recognized the barren area, at least, having hiked on that land many times during her youth. Now that she knew where the rogue dragons were, they only needed to find the eggs. _Why would they need to threaten the dragons after they had placed the Imperius Curse on them?_ Miranda wondered, confused.

Refocusing on the dragon as she let out a horrible screech, no doubt due to Miranda’s mental invasion, Miranda concentrated on breaking the curse. She could feel her energy draining as she pulled at the spell, unraveling it and removing the strands from the dragon’s mind. She marveled at the strength of the spell-casters—placing such a curse on the dragons must have been extremely difficult. A dragon’s mind was quite complex and powerful. Why would they go through such effort?

Finally, she felt something snap, like an elastic band, and she could hear the dragon’s thoughts easily. _You are free of the curse. Stop the attack_ , Miranda directed.

 _I cannot! They will kill my offspring_ , the dragon said, her thoughts reflecting sadness and anger.

 _We will save your eggs and free the other dragons_ , Miranda insisted, exasperated.

With a yowl the dragon veered toward Miranda and let loose a fierce barrage of flame. Miranda hurriedly protected herself with a shield charm, throwing a hand up in front of her head reflexively as the flames illuminated the sky.

“Ho! Who is that?” Miranda heard one of the wizards shout to her.

She looked away from the dragon momentarily and answered, “Miranda Priestly. You may know me as Miriam Princhek.” She reinforced the shield charm as the dragon screeched and expelled another blast of flame at her.

“The Dragon Whisperer,” he said, his voice filled with awe.

“Break off your attack on this dragon and concentrate on the other ones,” Miranda directed before dismissing the conversation as superfluous and continuing her conversation with the powerful dragon. _Why are you attacking me?_

 _You lie! The eggs are hidden. They will be killed if I cease._ The dragon roared and continued her fiery assault.

Insulted, Miranda rose to her full height and glared at the dragon. The weak rays of the recently risen sun poked through water-laden clouds and reflected off the dragon’s ebony scales as she hung in the air, an enormous shadow in the sky. The maw remained open as flames lapped at Miranda’s protective shield, and she could see the sharp, bronze horns on the dragon’s face, each pike point glistening in the powerful flare of the fire.

 _How dare you! When have I ever lied to any of your kind? Treated you dishonorably? Betrayed your trust_?

The dragon stopped her scorching onslaught and reared back, screeching into the overcast sky loudly as her wings flapped slowly. _My apologies, Dragon Whisperer. However, I must continue to obey their odious orders until our progeny are rescued._

 _We will find them! Once we do, we will go to where the other dragons are being held and lift the curse from them_ , Miranda argued fervently. Not hearing any additional thoughts, Miranda felt stymied. _I never imagined a dragon could be bound by an Imperius Curse_ , she mused.

_The evildoers caught us unaware. Although we could not overcome the curse or control our actions, some have maintained the ability to recognize and understand what we have been forced to do._

Miranda blanched. That was much worse than mindlessly carrying out the commands dictated by the Death Eaters. She shook her head, saddened by the plight these dragons. _Leave_ , she urged the dragon. _Return to where they are keeping you, if you must. I will free the other dragons’ minds of those aiding you with this attack and send them back, too. Once we find the eggs, we will come for you._

 _Only one other is here. The evildoers may realize I am no longer under the Imperius Curse and kill my eggs_ , the dragon objected.

 _No reason exists for them to suspect anything has changed_ , Miranda rejoined. _I must go release the other dragon from the curse. Go!_

 _Very well. Fare ye well, Dragon Whisperer, until next we meet_ , the dragon acquiesced before roaring so loudly that the land shook as she veered away.

Miranda rolled her eyes in exasperation before ascending the hill, mentally noting her tiredness after removing the Imperius Curse from the Hungarian Horntail. She would just have to push her body to keep going until the danger passed. Mounting the crest of the summit, Miranda eyes widened at the sight which greeted her. Four large structures were ablaze, men and women running toward them to extinguish the fires. More worrisome, however, was the house that was flattened—brick, stone, and wood destroyed and splayed around the area as if a tornado had picked it up and dropped it from a great height. Miranda hoped no one had been in the structure when it had been destroyed.

Feeling the wind push at her suddenly, nearly pressing her into the ground, Miranda looked up to see a massive Ukrainian Ironbelly floating through the sky. His dark-red eyes glowed like hot coals as he opened his maw and let loose a stream of flame toward the people attempting to save the Hebridean Blacks and their eggs from harm. As the sun hit the dragon, the gray color of his scales turned bright silver, blinding all who dared to stare.

Wasting no time with attempting to converse with the mammoth beast, Miranda pushed into the dragon’s consciousness forcefully, witnessing streams of thought similar to what she had seen in the Hungarian Horntail’s mind. She focused on breaking the curse, ignoring her growing fatigue, the shouts, the explosions—everything faded into the background as she sought to release the dragon from its unnatural mental prison.

As with the Horntail, she felt a snapping sensation directly before words flowed through her consciousness. The dragon was perplexed to find himself attacking a dragon sanctuary. Miranda was horrified to realize that some of the dragons had succumbed entirely to the Imperius Curse, blocking knowledge of their actions.

 _You are free of the Imperius Curse. Stop your attack on your brethren and distant kin_ , she instructed.

 _How did I get here? Why am I attacking the sanctuary? Where am I to go?_ And so Miranda’s mind flooded with question after question.

Just as she was about to answer his questions and continue persuading him to stop his attack, Miranda felt her body become airborne as a stun spell hit her back and propelled her twenty feet through the air. She lost her breath when she hit the rocky ground, and she could taste the metallic tinge that signaled a split lip—the result of hitting her head as she landed. Groaning, her body overwhelmed from the magic she had expended to free the two dragons, Miranda turned her head to see who had attacked her. She heard several popping noises, even as she watched a broad-shouldered man began to stride toward her, wand raised. Looking around, she saw a dozen dark-robed figures wearing masks spreading across the scorched field at the bottom of the hill where she had landed. A hex bounced off the defensive shield she quickly erected even as her mind identified the new arrivals: Death Eaters.

“Fabulous,” Miranda muttered while dragging herself off the ground, wincing as the ribs on her right side twinged. “Just fucking fabulous.”


	14. Chapter 14

**McGonagall Manor, Scotland, Thursday, April 17, 2014 (aka the never-ending day)**

Sighing happily, Hermione pushed back gently into the sinfully soft body spooning her. Talented fingers languidly stroked her from breast to belly in a hypnotic fashion, lulling her into a light doze. They had spent much of their vacation in each other’s arms, taking advantage of no interruptions to leisurely make love, cuddle, and talk. Although they were loving and passionate while at Hogwarts, too, the work and time constraints inherent with the venerable school often curtailed their ability to indulge to such an extent. During this vacation, however, they had taken the time to explore each other’s body inch by inch, tasting, familiarizing, marking, memorizing. They wore not a stitch of clothing, not worrying that someone might appear at their door unannounced needing immediate attention.

Hermione stretched, moaning as her back arched and two warm hands pulled her hips into Minerva’s alluring body. She felt her mate grinding into her backside, and Hermione positioned her leg on top of Minerva’s toned thigh, opening herself up completely to inquisitive fingers which slid through her wet folds.

“Hermione, mo Gràdh, you feel delicious,” Minerva murmured, her lips grazing Hermione’s ear, causing her to shudder with arousal.

“Minerva, please! I need to feel you.” Hermione’s passion rose higher as those talented fingers lightly stroked through the copious amount of liquid her body was creating in anticipation of making love. She wanted a stronger touch—needed it.

“Mmm, I know, my dear. I’ll take care of you. I do love how your body responds to me,” Minerva said. The light panting Hermione heard near her ear indicated just how much Minerva was affected by touching her.

Hermione undulated sinuously against her wife’s body, feeling Minerva shadow each motion with her own body. She felt light nips delivered down her neck and shuddered with arousal. Two fingers rubbed on either side of her swollen bundle of nerves, causing Hermione to moan long and low, reminiscent of the wind’s sound while flowing through Hogwart’s empty corridors late at night. Hermione pushed her lower body toward those tortuous fingers, desiring a stronger pressure. She moved her hand to capture them, but Minerva evaded her touch and restrained Hermione’s hand gently while sucking on her neck.

“In a hurry, are we?” Minerva’s lightly chuckled as she squeezed Hermione’s hand, continuing to move her body in the slow, sensuous rhythm they had set.

“You are driving me crazy, woman! Touch me!” Hermione practically growled.

“Mmmm. As you wish,” Minerva murmured, her hand releasing Hermione’s and sliding into her slick folds forcefully, filling her completely.

“Yes!” Hermione hissed.

They picked up speed as Minerva touched Hermione just where she needed. Hermione’s thighs and buttocks tightened as she pushed upward each time Minerva pressed the palm of her hand against Hermione’s sensitive clitoris. “Just…a little…more,” Hermione huffed, half out of her mind with how good it felt.

A bright light illuminated the room quite suddenly, causing them to pull apart and reach for their wands. A white vapor took the shape of a crocodile and spoke with Andy’s voice. “I am with the Priestly twins directly outside of Hogwarts’ front gates. We are being attacked by several Death Eaters. I have sent word to the Aurors on the property, but there are at least a dozen surrounding us. Hurry.”

Jumping out of bed, Hermione stumbled slightly as she attempted to ignore how her body throbbed with want. She felt strong arms wrap around her waist from behind. “Later, mo Gràdh. We will continue this later,” Minerva said and kissed her behind the ear before letting go.

They pulled sheets around them, transfiguring them quickly, then raised their wands so that they would be ready for what awaited them and apparated to Hogwarts' gates. As Hermione let loose with a stun spell on the nearest Death Eater, she saw Andy tackle one the twins—Caroline?—saving the young woman from a hex. They rolled to the side, and Andy jumped up with a spell on her lips. Hermione could not watch any longer, however, as she needed to protect herself from several curses thrown at her.

One curse whistled over her head as she ducked, and Hermione promptly directed a Confundus charm at her attacker, coupling it with a Conjunctivitis curse. The masked Death Eater roared in pain and ripped off her mask. Hermione gasped when she recognized the woman. It was Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy’s sister-in-law. Hermione would be quite shocked if Draco was part of this conspiracy. He and his parents had turned their backs on the Death Eaters at the end of the Second Wizarding War. Hermione incapacitated the screeching witch with a strong stun spell and looked around to see how everyone else was faring.

She saw Minerva down the dirt road dueling with a tall, muscular man. Noticing another man running toward them, wand arm extended, Hermione yelled out, “Epoximise,” as she aimed at a bunch of large rocks and swung her arm toward the man. The rocks adhered to his body forcefully, knocking him over.

Hearing an explosion, Hermione ran toward Andy, Caroline, and Cassidy. She watched in awe as Andy created a mini-tornado and directed it toward three Death Eaters. A low, constant rumbling filled the air, as if the whirlwind were discontented with the food it was given to eat. Hail ejected out of its funnel, bouncing off the quickly-soaked ground. The Death Eaters were caught up in the debris and lifted fifteen feet above the ground, arms and legs askew. Masks were ripped off, robes torn open, and boots pulled away by the high-level winds and debris feeding the unnatural whirlwind. Andy released them, and the Death Eaters were easily apprehended after they fell heavily, battered and breathless, onto the ground.

“Wow, Professor!” one of the twins exclaimed. “That was unbelievable!”

Andy chuckled. “I assure you, Cassidy, with magic just about anything is possible.”

“Thanks for protecting us, Professor,” Caroline said. “They came out of nowhere.”

Minerva joined Hermione, who stood off to one side of the subdued Death Eaters. Her face showed her distaste. “Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. How unfortunate to see you again. Did you truly believe you would prevail?”

Hermione looked on in shock. Rodolphus was the widower of Bellatrix, and Rabastan was his brother. Remembering how Bellatrix had ruthlessly tortured her during the Second Wizarding War under the guise of furthering Voldemort’s plans, Hermione felt bile rise in her throat, and stepping behind a nearby tree, Hermione bent over to vomit. After an endless few minutes, Hermione wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grimaced. Angry with herself at this apparent weakness, Hermione stood up stiffly and leaned against the tree, listening to Minerva’s conversation with the Lestranges.

“Why were you attacking?” Minerva demanded.

“Did you really believe we would slink into the background, live in the shadows just because Voldemort no longer leads us?” Rodolphus sneered. “We have planned for this day, and victory is within our grasp!” He balled his hand into a fist and shook it at Minerva. “You cannot stop us. And these girls,” he flipped his hand dismissively at the Priestly twins, “will be our bargaining chip with their mother.”

“You are awfully confident considering you are surrounded,” one of the Aurors said. Hermione had never met him before.

“You are so pathetic. So short-sighted,” Daphne mocked. “Here you are wasting your time defending these pathetic shadows of the Princhek line while their mother is no doubt already under our colleagues’ control.” She smiled meanly. “She was lured there by another dragon attack at the MacFusty Dragon Sanctuary at dawn. Unlike past attacks, however, she found two dragons and several Death Eaters waiting for her. She will agree to join us, using her unique gift on our behalf, when she learns that her precious daughters are under our control.”

“Obviously, they are not,” Hermione said firmly pointing to the young women.

“She doesn’t know that, though,” Rabastan said, contempt dripping from his words.

“Andrea,” Minerva called urgently, “you have to go to Miranda. Now. Let her know that her daughters are safe. We will contact the Ministry and send help as soon as we can.”

Watching grim determination settle over Andy’s face, Hermione stepped forward and said, “I’ll go with you.”

A hand on her arm stopped her. Confused, Hermione gazed into concerned emerald eyes.

“No, Hermione. We must keep Miranda’s daughters safe and help secure Hogwarts,” Minerva said softly. She turned toward her niece. "Go, Andrea." A moment later Andy was gone.

In a low voice, Hermione said, “Don’t you find it suspicious that we were able to capture them so quickly? They are a diversion. We need to help Miranda.” Hermione stared into her wife’s eyes earnestly.

“Andrea will help her,” Minerva insisted. “And I am sure more Aurors have already arrived at the sanctuary.”

“Aren’t you going to help my mom?” Caroline interjected.

Hermione turned toward her and smiled reassuringly. “Professor McGonagall has left to join her, and the Ministry is sending reinforcements. She will be fine.”

“But what about you?” Cassidy asked. “No one could win if you helped them, too.” Her eyes flickered between Hermione and Minerva beseechingly.

“Thank you, dear,” Minerva said, patting Cassidy’s arm. “We appreciate your confidence in our abilities. Surely you must know that Professor McGonagall is extremely skilled, as are the Aurors.”

“Yes, but they might not be enough!” Caroline said. “Mom hasn’t been in a duel since before we were born!”

“Your mother is an extremely powerful witch. You have never had occasion to witness her talents, but I assure you, she is one of the best alive," Minerva said. Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise. She had no idea.

“Excuse me,” one of the Aurors interrupted. Hermione recognized him to be Jackson Williamson. She had met him and some of the other Aurors before vacationing at the Manor. He motioned for them to come with him. Once they had moved away from everyone else, he placed a silencing charm around them. “We have word that the Death Eaters at the MacFusty Dragon Sanctuary are putting up quite a fight. We have several injuries, including two deaths.” His solemn countenance reinforced just how perilous the situation was.

Instinctively, Hermione glanced over at Caroline and Cassidy, concerned with how they might react to the news. Her eyes met Caroline’s, and Hermione realized her mistake when comprehension filled those blue eyes and she emitted a startled cry.

Caroline grabbed her sister’s arm and disapparated.

“No!” Hermione yelled, hand extended uselessly. “Shit!”

“Well, that changes our plans,” Minerva muttered. She looked at Jackson. “You'll have to finish up here. We'll go after them.”

A moment later Hermione and Minerva apparated into a burnt, soggy field at the bottom of a large hill. Rain pelted Hermione as she looked around. In seconds she was drenched. She could hear shouts and roars from beyond the crest of the hill. Through tacit agreement, she and Minerva made their way up the incline, wands drawn. Once they reached the top, Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock.

Before her was the proof of a vicious battle. Several people lay in the mud unmoving, limbs resting in odd positions and blood soaking the ground around them, making Hermione queasy. She hadn't seen such destruction since the times of Voldemort's reign of terror. Rubble littered the ground, and most of the structures were decimated.

Hearing a roar, she looked up, blinking against the cold rain drops, to stare with wide eyes at the largest dragon she had ever seen. The wingspan alone easily reached fifty feet. She, Harry, and Ron had released a similar dragon—a Ukrainian Ironbelly—when they had broken in to the Lestrange vault at Gringotts during the Second Wizarding War to find a horcrux. That dragon had been a pale gray, much smaller and less powerful, no doubt due to its captivity. This one was powerful, enormous, and angry.

Behind a large boulder the twins squatted. Evidently, they had not yet been spotted. She saw Miranda and Andy across the field, battling back to back against seven black-robed, masked Death Eaters. Aurors dueled with several others while the sanctuary employees attempted to stun the dragon. More Death Eaters apparated in, and Miranda was hit by a spell. One of the twins yelled out and began running toward her mother, her sister in hot pursuit. Andy turned and threw spell after spell at those who had turned their malevolent intentions toward the two young women.

“We need to get down there,” Hermione said urgently. She could see the Death Eaters focusing on the Priestlys and Andy. They would not be able to fight off so many for more than a few minutes.

“Hermione, turn into a phoenix,” Minerva directed as her eyes flittered over the field of battle. She made the change quickly, not needing to know Minerva's motivation. Once she turned into her animagus form, Minerva wrapped an arm around her and extended her wand arm. “Apparate to them and then change back.”

With a loud squawk, Hermione apparated across the field, startling everyone enough that they stopped dueling for a few moments. Unfortunately, the Death Eaters recovered from their surprise more quickly, and before Hermione knew what was happening, she felt excruciating pain overtake her and heard her name wrenched from Minerva's mouth in such a terrified voice that it jarred Hermione's soul. She was unable to reassure her wife, though, since at that moment she felt her body convulse and burst into flames.


	15. Chapter 15

**MacFusty Dragon Sanctuary on Isle of Skye, Scotland, Thursday, April 17, 2014 (aka the never-ending day)**

Miranda's head hurt. It more than hurt. It thrummed with pain, as if an elastic band were secured around her forehead, squeezing tightly each time she breathed. In addition, she was fairly certain that she had bruised her ribs. She cursed each breath even as she welcomed it. Her reserves had become depleted after extracting the Imperius Curse from both dragons' minds and fighting off several Death Eaters.

And what a fight it was! When she had been hit with a stun spell from behind and thrown across the field, only to watch several Death Eaters appear, Miranda had acted instinctively. It was as if she had never stopped dueling—spells had flowed through her mind quickly, and she had thrown ago at the Death Eaters every spell she had learned while a part of the wizarding world so long ago. If it weren't for the fact that there was only one of her and a seemingly endless parade of attackers, she had no doubt that this unfortunate encounter would have ended soon after it began. Unfortunately, it had dragged on, and Miranda had become weaker.

Then Andrea had appeared out of nowhere a few minutes ago, assuring her that the girls were with Minerva and Hermione at Hogwarts as she began casting spells against the Death Eaters surrounding them. Although no slouch when it came to dueling, Miranda was astounded by how proficient Andrea was with the wand. Not merely proficient with the wand, though. She had demonstrated on several occasions her aptitude with wandless magic, too. Oh, yes. To be in bed, safe and warm right now with her Andrea would be divine. Instead, they were fighting off countless Death Eaters in the frigid rain. The amount of Death Eaters intent on overtaking them worried her. Every time they made headway, more Death Eaters appeared.

In fact, if Andrea hadn't shown up a few minutes ago, she had no idea whether she would still be alive. Even with the younger witch's welcome help, Miranda had just borne the brunt of a nasty Crutiatus Curse. A dozen attackers had defeated their defensive shield, and then the curse had nearly pushed her into unconsciousness.

While Miranda slowly rose from the ground, wiping away the mud and small pebbles covering her face and clothing, she found herself staring at Minerva of all people, who held a beautiful gold and red phoenix in her arms. Before Miranda could think to voice a question about her sudden arrival or who was with her daughters, the phoenix was hit with a fireball and burst into flames. Andrea roared in anger and resurrected the protective shield to ward off more destructive spells while Minerva froze in horror, shouting out Hermione's name.

A moment later Miranda heard Minerva gasping Hermione's name again, and the normally stoic headmistress of Hogwarts knelt on the ground, searching frantically through a large pile of ash. Tears rolled down her grief-stricken face. “Where are you? You have to be here!”

_Hermione?_

Before Miranda could figure out what had just happened, she heard, "Mom! Mom!" Her eyes searched wildly, and she felt her heart stutter when she saw her two daughters sprinting across the ripped-up field toward them.

"Andrea, help them!" Miranda implored, afraid they would be struck down.

"I'm working on it," Andrea replied, her face screwed up in concentration as she waved her wand and muttered strings of words. Miranda watched, fascinated, as the defensive shield surrounding them extended on the side closest to her girls and enveloped them, shrinking as Cassidy and Caroline ran closer.

"Girls! Why did you come here? They are trying to use you to get to me. Stay close," Miranda directed. Looking back to Minerva, she saw the older witch lifting a small, fuzzy bird to her bosom. Its feathers were closely cropped and glowed a beautiful golden hue from its head and back. The stomach area was virtually featherless, and the skin was a light rose color. Its eyes were amber, and Miranda leaned in to stare, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. The eyes seemed so full of wisdom. As the newborn's eyes connected with Miranda, she gasped at the recognition they reflected. "Hermione?" Miranda whispered.

The bird emitted a sweet chirping noise even as it nuzzled into Minerva's body. Minerva held Hermione protectively against her chest.

"My God!" Miranda said, stunned.

Watching as Minerva transfigured her robe to add an inner breast pocket, Miranda mused that the safest place for Hermione was indeed next to Minerva's heart. She smiled grimly at Minerva when their eyes met and nodded respectfully.

"I have been unable to convince the dragon to help us or to leave, but now that you are all here, I will attempt it again," Miranda said. She turned her attention back to the dragon that circled overhead. He was not very smart, and the threat to his unborn eggs overruled any common sense he might have in that cavernous brain.

 _I have told you where the other dragons—those who are being controlled as you were—are being held. We will free them! It would not take much for you to slay these Death Eaters. If we get them all, none will be able to report that you helped, and your eggs will remain safe. They will blame the deaths on me and those with me_ , Miranda thought as she added her own strength to reinforcing the shield. She noticed that several more people had arrived, and thankfully not all of them were Death Eaters.

 _No, Dragon Whisperer. You cannot guarantee the safety of my dragonets without knowing where they are held. I cannot do as you ask_ , the Ironbelly insisted. The dragon let loose a high-pitched screech that made Miranda's hair stand on end. She felt rain hitting her and looked up in confusion. The defensive shield should be protecting them from the elements as well as the various spells cast their way.

"I can't hold on for much longer," Andrea panted out. Miranda blanched when she saw just how exhausted Andrea looked. "We need to get out of here. The Aurors are here. I'm sure they'll secure the area," she huffed.

"We can't disapparate without becoming vulnerable during that moment. It would be best to move to a sheltered area and leave simultaneously," Minerva suggested. She shot spells furiously at their attackers as they began to edge toward a destroyed building to their west. Caroline and Cassidy followed her, and Miranda kept close to Andrea as they took the rear in case the fatigued witch needed physical support. They moved slowly so that they could maintain their defense and prevent being hemmed in.

"Trying to slink away like beaten dogs, are you? You don't truly believe you can escape, do you?" a female voice mocked.

"And yet it is you who hide behind masks! Too ashamed to reveal yourselves?" Andrea scoffed.

A shrill laugh filled the air. "I wasn't the one hiding half way around the world to avoid Voldemort's might. What kind of woman trembles under her blankets while her parents lie dying? Coward!" The speaker ripped off her mask and cackled. "And look at you fighting by the side of the fabled Dragon Whisperer. Another deserter." She directed a faux-concerned look at Miranda, making her shake with rage. "Did you stay away so you would not be forced to use your powers on behalf of Voldemort? You are so pathetic!"

Minerva cut into the dialogue, her voice strong and condescending. "That is quite enough, Miss Bulstrode. It would be best for everyone if you let us go. As it is, you shall face a very unpleasant life in Azkaban, provided you survive this day."

 _Millicent Bulstrode, a nasty piece of work_ , Miranda thought. Most of the Blacks were irredeemable, worthless additions to the wizarding world.

"Aw, Headmistress, no need to be a wet blanket," another Death Eater who had joined Bulstrode purred. She pulled off her mask with a flourish and grinned evilly. "No one will be vacationing in Azkaban today, but if you hand over the Dragon Whisperer, we'll spare you and the others."

"Don't be absurd, Miss Parkinson," Minerva responded, her voice full of scorn. She shook her head wearily. "I had hoped that you and the other Slytherins from your graduating class would have taken Malfoy's lead and turned away from this ridiculous fantasy of ruling the world."

Not recognizing the woman, Miranda looked askance at Andrea. She said in a low voice, "That's Pansy Parkinson. She graduated the same year as Hermione." Miranda nodded her understanding.

Redirecting her focus she saw three more Death Eaters joining the two women as six others ran toward the northern section of the sanctuary. She saw several Aurors pursue them, spells lighting up the stormy sky. A large concussion immediately behind them sent them sprawling to the ground. Miranda felt her cheekbone burn, and a moment later blood mingled with rain. She looked up in horror and raised her wand to reestablish their protective shield.

"Stop or we'll kill your precious daughters!" Parkinson ordered. She held her wand against Caroline's neck while Cassidy was held flush against Bulstrode's body, who had a sneer fixed on her face.

Miranda rose slowly. "Do you really think I will help you if you kill them?" she asked in a mild voice. "Surely not."

"Then promise through a blood oath to join us, and we will release them," a tinny, high-pitched male voice demanded.

"Miranda, don't!" Andrea pleaded. "If you break the oath you will die. And how could we live with the knowledge that you had agreed to this in order to keep us safe?"

"Don't do it, Mom! They'll just make you kill us later to prove your loyalty or something," Cassidy said. She grunted when Bulstrode slapped her on the side of the head.

"Quiet, you insolent pup!" Bulstrode hissed.

Searching her daughters' eyes, Miranda saw resolution and defiance shining brightly in their eyes. She knew that giving up her own freedom in exchange for theirs would be viewed as a betrayal to everything they believed in. She would not do it.

"No," she said with finality. She felt a hand grasp her arm and pull her back so that she was flanked by Andrea and Minerva.

"Very well," Parkinson sneered. She called out behind her, "Direct the dragon to kill the brats."

Caroline and Cassidy were thrown to the ground, and Bulstrode yelled, “[Incarcerous](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Incarcerous)!”

Miranda blanched as she watched ropes bind her daughters, preventing them from moving.

A familiar voice filled her head, making Miranda gasp. _Kill the girls or your brood will die._ It was her uncle. She searched the area, but only saw several masked Death Eaters in the background fighting Aurors and those who manned the dragon sanctuary.

 _Don't do it_ , a feminine voice directed firmly. Miranda turned bright eyes to Andrea. It was her voice filling her mind.

 _I have no choice_ , the dragon said.

 _Stop or I will stop you_ , Andrea challenged.

"Andrea, what are you doing?" Miranda hissed. Andrea squeezed her arm, as if to reassure her.

"Be ready to get the girls," Andrea said softly, her gaze encompassing Miranda and Minerva. Miranda didn't understand, and she became even more confused when Minerva nodded and wished Andrea good luck.

Running out of their protective shield into the driving rain, Andrea's body began to morph before their eyes. Her body became larger and larger. And larger. In a matter of seconds she transformed into a beautiful dragon—a type that Miranda had never seen before. Although not as mammoth as the Ironbelly, Andrea made up for it with a muscular body. She was breathtaking.

Shining, cerulean blue scales, long leathery wings, and razor-sharp claws reflected just how powerful she was as she reared up and jumped into the air, bulleting toward the slow Ukranian dragon. Andrea's chest, a mixture of silver and light blue scales seemed to split the rain drops apart, creating small rainbow vortices spiraling off her wingtips. Her roar, a challenge and warning to the larger dragon, caused the Death Eaters to break for cover. Minerva and Miranda ran to Caroline and Cassidy, removing the curse and pulled them up from the ground. They ran toward their original goal behind one of the destroyed buildings, even as Miranda kept eying the spectacular aerial fight occurring above them.

Andrea swooped over the Ironbelly and let loose a jet of blue fire just before she cuffed his right wing with her claws. Miranda heard a commanding voice reverberate in her mind. _Leave now, or I will have no choice but to hurt you._ Her mouth dropped open. Andrea—that was her Andrea!

 _I cannot leave without trying to defeat you. Otherwise, they will destroy my eggs_ , the male dragon answered and directed a stream of fire at Andrea. She easily dodged it and screeched her displeasure. She let loose another fiery attack and snapped at the Ironbelly's tail. Andrea pulled at his tail forcefully, causing him to flail across the sky before he could stop his momentum. Just as he turned, she was on him, claws cutting into the back of his neck.

 _This is your last warning. Save yourself. Leave. I would rather not kill you,_ Andrea said. The Ukrainian Ironbelly's red eyes glowed with fury, but without another word, it flew off in a jagged path as his blood burned the land below him.

 _You are magnificent_ , Miranda thought, her mind in a whirlwind of awe and arousal and respect.

_All of you need to leave now. I will join you—_

_Andrea?_ Miranda heard Andrea's thoughts cut off suddenly and cocked her head, trying to see what was happening.

"They are trying to stun her," Minerva said in a horrified voice, pointing her finger at about a dozen Death Eaters who were directing their wands at Andrea. Miranda could see that Andrea was tired. She guessed that the powerful witch was attempting to defend herself against the Death Eaters while maintaining her flight path. Andrea let loose a stream of fire at her attackers, but it bounced off ineffectively. To Miranda's dismay, nothing they threw at the Death Eaters was strong enough to incapacitate them, although they were able to land a few spells.

 _Come down! We can't protect you from here_ , Miranda pleaded with Andrea.

A sharp, pain-filled cry pierced the air, and to Miranda's horror she saw Andrea's animagus body, twisted in pain, spiraling quickly toward the earth. She pointed her wand and uttered a cushioning spell. A hand around her waist prevented her from running to her lover.

"Let me go immediately!" Miranda raged.

"No! If they capture you, all of this will be for naught. She is not dead, just stunned," Minerva said.

At that moment a contingency of Aurors arrived, easily three dozen, and quickly surrounded the Death Eaters. Even though they moved expediently, several Death Eaters disapparated. Miranda ran toward Andrea, her daughters and Minerva close behind her.

"Andrea. Andrea! Speak to me!" Miranda implored, tears leaking from her eyes. She rubbed the blue-hued snout from which smoke billowed, staring at the closed eyelids, looking for some sign. _Andrea. Andrea? Please, come back to me._

 _Ugh...Damn...that hurt!_ The voice was weak, but it was undeniably Andrea's thoughts.

Miranda laughed with relief and hugged the dragon's head closely. _My God! Don't you ever scare me like that again! I could have lost you!_

 _Miranda... I know where...the rogue dragons are...the high moors...Bleaklow...England...Dark Peak. Please...Tell my aunt...I' m going...change back...might pass out...Promise...won't leave me. I was...looking forward to...seeing you...tonight,_ Andrea's thoughts, filled with pauses, continued to weaken, and Miranda feared Andrea might pass out before changing back.

 _I won't leave you. And you are right about the location. I was able to gain the same information while lifting the Imperius Curse from the dragons. Now, change back, darling, so I can take care of you._ Miranda loosened her hold and watched Andrea expectantly. She was not disappointed.

The air left Miranda's lungs as Andrea's body transformed back to her beautiful human form. Miranda and Minerva both reached out to catch Andrea as her legs buckled. "We have you," Miranda murmured. "I have you," she whispered as Andrea's head rested on her shoulder.

"I know you do," Andrea whispered back before falling into unconsciousness.

"Let's return to Hogwarts," Minerva suggested. She looked behind Miranda and said, "Harry, Ron, we need to get Andrea and Miranda back to Hogwarts so they can be looked after properly. Why don't you join us there, and we can tell you what happened." Although couched as a polite question, Minerva's words were clearly a directive. Miranda smirked inwardly. She had always liked Minerva's way of dealing with, well, everything. In fact, Miranda had fashioned herself after the venerable woman in many ways.

The rain stilled poured down, but Miranda hardly felt it. Nor could she feel any aches or pains other than a dull throbbing behind her eyes and around her abused ribs. It didn't matter. All she could focus on was Andrea's limp body leaning against her, her daughters' worried questions filling the air around her, and Minerva's calm leadership.

Soon they were all gathered in the Headmistress's office. They lay Andrea down on a couch before a roaring fire and dried their clothes with hot-air charms. Tea was ordered and the school nurse, Madame Pomfrey, was summoned to examine Andrea. The skilled nurse was one of the few people who had remained at Hogwarts during the school break.

As it turned out, Madame Pomfrey insisted that she examine everyone. Miranda had broken two ribs and suffered a moderate concussion, along with various cuts and abrasions. The school nurse treated her while muttering under her breath that what she really needed was to be in the hospital wing. Miranda made the effort of biting her tongue since, after a few uncomfortable moments, she felt much better. To that end, she even deigned to nod stiffly at Madame's stern directive that she rest.

All were relieved to hear that Andrea was not hurt, merely exhausted—her energy stores extremely low after both battles, the animagus transformation, and the dragon battle. Through the brief examination, Miranda watched Andrea struggle to keep her eyes open. Her body was shutting down. Everyone except Andrea adjourned to the far side of the room to allow her to rest.

Before everyone gathered around a large, round oak table to debrief, Minerva gently removed the phoenix chick from her robe and with an impressive example of wandless magic created a nest of blankets resting in a gold circular pedestal. She placed the phoenix down and said softly, "Rest, mo Gràdh. In a few hours we will return to the Manor."

"Blimey! Is that, is that Hermione?" Ronald Weasley asked in amazement.

"Aye," Minerva answered, her Scottish brogue strong. "She was hit by a fireball. By tomorrow she will be able to return to her human form."

"Oh, wow. Thank Merlin she's a phoenix animagus," Harry Potter said, his face contorted with concern. Minerva merely nodded.

"Well, let's get to it, then. I am sure you'd all like to rest after what has occurred," Harry said.

"Miranda?" a soft voice interrupted.

Rounding the sofa, Miranda had never felt more relief than in that moment, looking into unfocused, bronze eyes. Without pause, Miranda sat down and reached for the younger woman, holding her tightly. "I was worried," Miranda admitted, her words muffled against Andrea's shoulder. She pulled back to look into Andrea's face, her chest filling with warmth."You are a magnificent dragon, darling. I've never seen such a resplendent example of nobility." Miranda touched Andrea's cheek tenderly. "You need to rest."

"I will, but I need to tell them what I know. And I need to eat." A loud rumbling made them both smile. "Being a dragon animagus really saps my energy."

"Dragon animagus?" Ronald asked, his voice cracking.

"Ah, yes. Perhaps we should start with that," Minerva said drily. "But first, let me arrange for some lunch so that Andrea does not faint from hunger."

"And please give Miranda some clothes to borrow," Andrea said, her face becoming pale. With a groan, Miranda released Andrea and walked across the room to where Minerva stood.

Miranda watched as Minerva's shrewd eyes absorbed her dragon-hide outfit and lit with comprehension. They smirked at each other. "A pity," Minerva whispered conspiratorially.

"Mmm," Miranda agreed.

Over the next hour they discussed Miranda's investigation, Andrea's map project, her animagus transformation, and the attacks in front of Hogwarts and at the MacFusty Dragon Sanctuary. By the time all the information had been laid out, it was clear that the dragon attacks were merely decoys to lure Miranda into a trap.

"They will be even more dangerous now that they failed to get you today. They suffered heavy losses, and no doubt some within their ranks will be contemplating defecting. Once we return to the Ministry we will attempt to ascertain where the dragon eggs are hidden by questioning some of the Death Eaters we caught. We will be in touch with you tomorrow," Harry said. He rose. "Please don't do anything until you hear from me or Ron. You all need to rest, anyway, and we need to make sure that when we do move against them that we are able to stop them for good."

Minerva walked them to the door as Miranda, her daughters, and Andrea remained at the table.

"Are you really all right?" Caroline asked Andrea.

"Oh, sure. I just need to rest a bit more. You both were really brave today," Andrea answered, her eyes soft as she gazed at Caroline and Cassidy. Miranda felt her heart skip.

"Well," Minerva interrupted them as she approached the table. "I have a suggestion. Harry will be placing more security at Hogwarts," Minerva frowned, "but not until tomorrow morning since they have to secure the dragon sanctuary. So, how would you all feel about staying at McGonagall Manor tonight? That way we will all be protected and close to each other."

Nodding her agreement, Miranda turned to her girls. They looked a bit intimidated. She glanced at Andrea and saw a perplexed look on her face. Perhaps she felt insulted on her aunt's behalf for her daughters' hesitation. That would not do. "Girls?" she prompted with some impatience.

"Yes, that sounds wonderful," Caroline quickly acquiesced.

"Thank you, Headmistress. That is most kind of you," Cassidy said.

_Much better._

"It's settled, then. Andrea, are you well enough to accompany the girls while they pack an overnight bag?" Minerva asked.

"Sure," Andrea answered as she rose from the table.

"I should return to my home to pack some clothes, too," Miranda said.

"Miranda, that is probably not a wise idea. It is possible that Death Eaters are hoping for such an opportunity to capture you. Don't forget that your uncle was with the Death Eaters. Certainly, he knows the location of your home. We will provide you with whatever you need," Minerva said.

Reluctantly, Miranda agreed. Minerva's concerns were well-founded. Andrea's sweet smile and warm fingers interlacing with hers helped, too.


	16. Chapter 16

**McGonagall Manor, Scotland, Thursday, April 17, 2014 (aka the never-ending day)**

Eyes closed, Hermione luxuriated in the comfortable ease a long nap afforded her. She felt so tired, exhausted really. But here she was wrapped in warmth—safe, and dry, and loved. To think that just this morning she had awakened to her wife's ardent affection, and now she was a phoenix chick.

When Hermione had first mastered her animagus form so many years ago, she and Minerva had spent several evenings in front of Albus Dumbledore's portrait, asking questions to better understand Hermione's new form. He had told them everything he had learned through his time interacting with Fawkes, a beautiful, brave phoenix that had flown into the Forbidden Forest after Dumbledore's death, never to be seen again. He had told them how a phoenix could be hit with a killing curse and survive it by bursting into flames and rising from the ashes. Although it took several days after such an occurrence for a phoenix to become fully grown, he had assured them that the process was quick and all memories and knowledge from the previous existence would be retained by the new, physical incarnation. In effect, the soul would not be lost, nor all the experiences attached to it.

Hermione was extremely glad to find that Dumbledore's words had proven accurate. Dying was awfully inconvenient, though.

At the battle, Minerva had directed her to apparate across the field to where Miranda and Andy were fighting a group of Death Eaters as the Priestly twins had dashed toward their mother. Minerva had held Hermione securely in her arms, and during those few moments that followed the apparation, Hermione had glanced around to determine what was needed to keep everyone in one piece. And then a curse had struck her with such force that she had flown out of Minerva's arms and burst into flames. If she had been in human form, she might be dead now. Minerva had hypothesized that her animagus form would protect her, but truthfully, Hermione would have preferred to not find out. Ever.

What made Hermione's heart stutter, though, what roused her from her toasty haven and caused her to release an agitated warble, was the knowledge that if the curse had landed just a bit higher or lower than it had, then Minerva would have received that hit. And a feline animagus would not have protected Minerva from the killing curse.

When Hermione had felt the force push through her body—the blast pounding through her as easily as a fist through tissue—a weightless, airy feeling had filled her. She had felt as if she were floating, no sensory input or invasion from the surrounding world had interrupted the sudden peacefulness of the moment. It had felt as if she were floating. Just floating.

And then time had sped up and she had found herself shivering, cold, wet, and vulnerable. Distantly she had heard her wife's voice, so filled with fear and grief, calling for her. And then Hermione had felt strong hands surrounding her, lifting her, holding her securely.

What a surprise it had been to open her eyes to see Minerva's vivid emerald eyes, filled with tears and relief. Hermione had found it hard to concentrate, feeling so tired and discombobulated. All she could do was lean into the body she loved so much and chirp her thanks. Minerva had promptly placed Hermione next to her heart and kept her safe from further harm.

Breathing in deeply, Hermione stretched her neck enough to poke through the comfortable blankets covering her and extended her featherless wings, indulging in a full-body shake.

"Well hello there, sleepyhead," Hermione heard, her wife's well-loved Scottish lilt caressing her ears.

Opening her eyes to the shadowed room, Hermione recognized that they were in their bedroom at the Manor. She sighed happily and snuggled into the well-known body of her wife. She saw that she was positioned once more near Minerva's heart.

"You gave me quite a fright, Hermione," Minerva said softly. "Thanks to the rain, I could not find you in the ashes after you were hit by the killing curse." A long silence settled around them. Hermione tried to find comfort from Minerva's heartbeats under her ears, but she could hear her distress through her wife's quick heartbeats and harsh breathing. "The thought of losing you..."

Hermione's heart squeezed with those last words, whispered so roughly. Wanting to change back to her human form immediately, Hermione began to struggle against the covers, shimmying up Minerva's chest and shoulder until only her feet remained entrapped. As she began to extricate them, she felt Minerva's hands help her before lifting her so they were eye to eye.

"Hermione, love, you must rest. Your body is too weak to change back to your human form. You must not try until tomorrow. Please."

Lost in wet, vivid emerald eyes, Hermione opened her beak and let forth a warbling, mournful tune. She poured her helplessness, her frustration, her empathy, and her fear into it, allowing them to shape the song. She felt herself held against revered lips as her tears flowed, and eventually she realized that Minerva was allowing the drops to land on her tongue before swallowing them. For several minutes only Hermione's voice filled the room as shadows overtook the light, and the warmth faded to a prevalent chill.

A reassuring hand began to stroke her back, her sides, her head, and Hermione felt those feelings ebb. She was here. With Minerva. They were safe. And her body would heal and grow.

She heard Minerva mutter a word and felt the effects of a fire roaring in the fireplace as her song turned toward her gratefulness for being able to share more time with this magnificent woman, her relief that everyone was safe, her joy over the mystical workings of her animagus form on her human body, and her ever-deepening love for Minerva. When the song finally ended, Hermione felt cleansed. Pure. Whole.

"You are so precious to me, mo Gràdh," Minerva said tenderly. She continued to gently run her fingers over Hermione's body in sweeping strokes that made Hermione feel safe and loved. She preened as she was placed on Minerva's chest and a blanket was tucked around them. "We have a few hours until dinner. I suggest we rest. I want to hold you, but I fear I might shift once I fall asleep and hurt you."

Cocking her head, Hermione stared at Minerva. She wished she could talk to her. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. She missed Minerva's strong arms holding her, and it had only been a few hours.

"I have an idea," Minerva said. "Now, don't worry, love. I won't allow my animagus instincts to overcome my knowledge of who and what you are."

Before Hermione could figure out what those cryptic words meant, she watched Minerva's body transform into her feline animagus. Intelligent green eyes stared at her as Minerva let out a friendly meow. She leaned in and rubbed her head against Hermione's body as loud purrs erupted. Chirping in response, Hermione stood up and watched as Minerva's silver body circled over the gap under the covers left by Minerva's human form before lying down in the warm indentation. Once positioned, Minerva cocked her head and extended her paw to point at Hermione and then at her side—a very uncatlike action which indicated to Hermione quite clearly that she was to rest against Minerva's flank.

Hermione stepped forward and settled into the warmth of her wife, feeling Minerva's body curling around her protectively. A scratchy tongue began to groom her with long strokes up the side of her featherless neck and face, and Hermione sighed, content. Infused with the comfort of Minerva's purrs and the fire's glow, Hermione once again fell asleep.

***

Groaning, Andy turned on to her side and cracked open an eye. Her stomach growled again as Andy placed a hand over it, as if to cover an unruly loudmouth's grumblings.

"Honestly, Andrea, is there no way to subdue that beastly hunger of yours?" a low, sleep-laden voice groused.

Smirking, Andy said, "You didn't seem to mind my _hunger_ a little while ago, and besides, all that activity made me hungry." Silky arms slid around her waist and pulled her against a wonderfully warm body. Andy felt her body heat up at the closeness. Moist lips lightly sucked on her shoulder, as a hum of pleasure near her ear made Andy tremble.

"Mmm, no, I most certainly did not mind. I suppose you have a point. And didn't your aunt mention that your animagus transformations would also deplete your energy stores?" Miranda asked, her fingers rubbing senseless patterns over Andy's belly.

"Yes. I suppose I should try to eat while I am a dragon some time, just to see if that helps," Andy said, her voice a little breathless as those fingers widened their coverage, grazing the tops of Andy's thighs enticingly. She closed her eyes automatically as Miranda entered her with two fingers.

"And what a superb dragon you are," Miranda murmured. "So stunning. So awe-inspiring." Her fingers pumped harder and faster as Andrea sank into words whispered into her ear about how turned on Miranda had felt when Andy had transformed, and how aroused she had become when Andy's powerful animagus voice had filled her mind. _You are attractive in any form. And so intelligent. So clever. So irresistible._

Hearing Miranda's thoughts clearly, Andy moaned, "Miranda," and trembled as her body readied itself for the impending orgasm. Her body burned, and perspiration made her slick as they moved against each other. She groaned as Miranda withdrew her fingers and repositioned her body from behind her so that she could move against Andy's thigh. Moaning lustily as those talented fingers thrust into her forcefully and her sex grasped at Miranda's questing fingers, Andy saw the desire burning in darkened blue eyes. Miranda's wetness coated her leg as they moved faster and faster together. Andy leaned forward to capture irresistible lips, moaning as the passionate kiss pushed her over the edge. Andy held Miranda tightly as they fell together, groaning into each other's mouths, panting when the kiss ended. Tenderness welled up in Andy's chest as Miranda rested her forehead against her collarbone and kissed her damp skin softly.

They settled into a comfortable silence as their bodies cooled down from their exertions. Andy held Miranda securely, needing to feel the solidness of her lover's body on her _. I missed you this week_ , Andy mused silently.

 _I felt the same_ , Miranda's voice sounded in Andy's mind. _When this is over, when we have recovered the dragons' eggs and freed the other rogue dragons, I will have to return to the States._

 _Will you come back?_ Andy wondered, wanting and not wanting the answer. The fact that they were not voicing this conversation aloud caused Andy to feel unsure of herself. Yet, she was afraid to state anything out loud, not wanting her voice to reveal through tone and inflection how badly she wanted Miranda to come back.

_It is possible. That will depend on several factors._

Andy lay in the warm bed holding this woman who meant so much to her and refused to allow herself to ask for clarification. She was afraid to know what stood in her way. Afraid that she was not enough of a reason for Miranda to come back. And why would she be? Miranda had always placed her daughters first and _Runway_ second. Andy had seen Miranda's last husband ignored and treated as if he should be grateful for any time he was granted with the fashion editor. Andy did not have a shot at compelling Miranda to come back, to start a life with her, to be what? Her lover? Her mate? No, Miranda was out of range, and Andy had no hope of keeping her interested. Realizing that she had allowed her thoughts to roam free and afraid Miranda had heard them, Andy refocused on her hunger, grinning when her stomach growled, seemingly on cue.

"I believe a snack is in order," Miranda pronounced with a chuckle.

"Right. Elsa," Andy said, and a moment later the house elf popped in the room, her head bowed respectfully."If it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you bring some snacks and tea for us? Just enough to keep us until dinner."

"Yes, Missus Andrea," Elsa said and disappeared.

"I am surprised to see a house elf here," Miranda said.

"She's a free elf. She wished to remain here to take care of the Manor. We pay her, and as you saw, she wears clothes," Andy answered and watched as Miranda merely nodded. "We view her as part of the family."

Squeezing Miranda's body with a tight hug, Andy turned and deposited the older witch on her back, then rose from the warmth, pulling on a robe just before Elsa reappeared with the food and tea.

"Thank you," Andy said with a smile. "Shall we eat in front of the fire?" she asked Miranda.

Miranda rose, also donning a robe, and they settled on the sofa, each claiming a corner. "As far as I can determine, the Death Eaters placed the _Imperius Curse_ on at least six dragons. I was able to release the two that were at the MacFusty Dragon Sanctuary yesterday, but it drained me terribly. I will need help to release the other dragons' minds."

"I'll help you. I already feel much better. By tomorrow, I'll be as good as new," Andy said and was glad to see Miranda's nod of acceptance.

"Now we need only determine where their eggs are hidden," Miranda sighed.

"The Ministry will be able to get that information from the Death Eaters we captured today. It's just a matter of time," Andy said while staring into the fireplace, her eyes trained on the flames as the wood snapped. Her mind was focused on how Miranda would leave once the dragons and their eggs were rescued. _Why wouldn't she leave?_

"Because I intend to be sure that the danger to my daughters has passed. That means capturing those responsible," Miranda said softly.

Looking up, Andy gazed into those ice-chip blue eyes she knew so well, startled to realize that her thoughts had filtered through enough to be heard by Miranda. "I'm sorry, Miranda. I didn't mean to question you. I just, I know I am being selfish, but I like having you here." She raised a hand to stop Miranda from responding. "We can put this discussion on hold. I know we need to focus on more important matters than our spending time together."

"That is important, too, Andrea. You must know that I have also enjoyed our time together. You know I noticed when you left the States. As for what that may mean for a future together, I am conflicted. A great deal depends on my girls." Miranda paused. "They adore you," Miranda said, her near-whisper causing Andy to lean forward to catch each word.

"I adore them, too. They have matured into two intelligent, courageous, clever young women. I love watching them master new lessons. Their help with the tracking map is a great example. They picked up the intricacies very quickly," Andy said. She could see that her words meant quite a bit to Miranda, and she was glad that she had cause to praise the Priestly twins.

They spent the afternoon cuddled on the sofa before the fire, dozing. At times they would exchange words. Their conversations ranged from how _Runway_ was doing without Miranda present to strategy for lifting the _Imperius Curse_ from the dragons. Andy had decided that she would be able to lift the curse more quickly while in her animagus form. She had found it easier to communicate with Miranda and the Ironbelly while she was in dragon form, and that was after taking part in two dueling battles. They steered clear of talking about the future, particularly any long-term future involving the two of them, by tacit agreement. It seemed safer to focus on more immediate events.

An hour before dinner they finally roused themselves to share a long, hot shower. They had kept their gazes locked while bringing each other to orgasm, and Andy nearly cried as the physical pleasure warred with her fears that soon Miranda would walk away for good.

They walked to the dining room hand-in-hand, only separating when Andy leaned over to kiss her aunt on the cheek before she took her seat. As always, Aunt Minerva sat at the head of the table, Andy noticed, so she sat to her aunt's right and Miranda next to her. Andy's smile to Caroline and Cassidy when they entered the room morphed into amusement when she saw how uneasy they felt sitting next to their Headmistress. Since they seemed anxious, Andy set out to put them at ease.

"Hi, Caroline," Andy said with a smile at her before looking at her sister. "Hi, Cassidy. Did you both get some rest?"

"Yup," Caroline answered as she reached for her goblet of water. _We had nothing else to do since neither you nor Mom came to see us._

Andy's eyebrows flew up. Before she could form a question, though, Cassidy said, "It was good to just lie around and get warm again." _And wonder what the hell's going on between you and Mom._ Just managing to prevent her mouth from dropping open, Andy glanced at Miranda, but did not see any type of unusual response. Obviously, Miranda had not heard the last part of that sentence.

"Oh, well, um, that's...that's good. Getting warm," Andy stuttered. She grabbed her own water goblet and took a hearty sip, nearly choking when she heard another thought.

 _She always had a soft spot for you. It's no wonder she was fawning all over you once you were stunned_ , Caroline thought. _Although turning into a dragon was pretty hot._

"Girls, I would like to discuss your appearance at the MacFusty Dragon Sanctuary," Miranda said.

 _Oh, shit!_ both girls thought simultaneously. Andy captured her smirk before it bloomed on her face. She was a Hogwarts' professor, after all, and should present herself with proper decorum. Not to mention, they had gotten caught by the Death Eaters and nearly had placed Miranda in danger after disobeying the directive to remain at Hogwarts. Their disobedience had yielded serious repercussions.

"Your Headmistress plainly directed you to remain at Hogwarts, yet you willfully ignored her and nearly got me and yourselves killed," Miranda said in a low, firm voice.

"We were worried about you," Cassidy said in defense. _It hadn't taken much to defeat them at Hogwarts. How were we supposed to know they were so much better at dueling there?_

"We wanted to help," Caroline added. _Jeez, you're welcome!_

"Girls," Aunt Minerva said in full Headmistress mode, her disapproval plain, "you knew that the stakes were high. Hadn't you been helping Professor McGonagall for days on a project to help your mother?" After the twins nodded, she continued. "And hadn't you had a conversation with her about being careful? In fact, you knew we had Aurors assigned to Hogwarts to protect everyone, including you. Yet, you felt you were above the rules, that you could do as you pleased because your mother was in danger, and you nearly cost her all that she held dear: your lives and her freedom."

By the time Aunt Minerva finished her reprimand, Andy noticed that Caroline and Cassidy were sitting with heads bowed, sniffling.

"Bobbseys, I cannot afford to worry about you while we are trying to capture the people responsible for these attacks. Please, you must do as you are asked. Do I have your word?" Miranda asked as she stared sternly at her daughters.

"Yes," they both muttered.

"Good," Miranda said with a sigh.

 _But we're still going to help you whether you like it or not_ , Caroline thought, a grimace on her face.

"You will do nothing of the kind," Andy said a little too loudly. "If you do anything to endanger your mother again, well-meaning or not, you will answer to me." Everyone stared at her. Andy looked around innocently and shrugged. As soon as her aunt began asking Miranda a question about the dragons, Andy looked over at Caroline, whose brows were furrowed in confusion. _I heard you loud and clear, Caroline. Don't get any more funny ideas_ , Andy thought forcefully to Caroline.

_Holy shit! You can hear my thoughts?!_

Andy nearly smiled at Caroline's thoughts and the spooked look that crossed her face.

 _What the hell's got Caroline all bent out of shape?_ Cassidy wondered silently.

 _Probably that I just warned her not to do anything funny, just as I am warning you. Your inexperience nearly got several people killed today_ , Andy thought as she stared at Cassidy.

_Fuck! You know what I'm thinking?! Oh my, God! I'll never get away with anything ever again!_

Andy bit down on her lower lip to keep from grinning. Noting how pale both of Miranda's daughters looked as they stared at her, Andy clapped her hands together loudly. "So, what's for dinner?" she asked brightly as she looked around. Elsa appeared as if on command and served a wonderful feast.

"Once we receive word from the Ministry that they have determined the location of the dragons' eggs, Hermione and I will travel there to retrieve them. Andrea and Miranda, you will go to Bleaklow to free the rogue dragons from the _Imperius Curse_. Caroline and Cassidy will return to Hogwarts," Aunt Minerva said, and Andy nodded, agreeing one hundred percent with the plan.

"But, Headmistress, we want to help!" Caroline said.

"Please, we can protect Mom and Professor McGonagall while they release the dragons' minds. They won't be able to do both at the same time," Cassidy implored.

"Haven't you been listening? It is too dangerous," Miranda hissed.

They sat back dejectedly. _We are adults_ , Caroline thought petulantly.

 _Then act like it, and do not distract us from what we need to do_ , Andy thought sternly. "How is Hermione?" she suddenly thought to ask her aunt. She felt horrible for not asking as soon as she saw her.

"Growing by the hour. I left her upstairs at her request. By tomorrow she will be able to transform back to her human form," Aunt Minerva answered.

"I am glad to hear it," Miranda said with a nod.

"Yes. Please tell her that we missed her at dinner," Andy said.

"I shall," Aunt Minerva agreed with a small smile.

With little fanfare, all retired to their rooms shortly after dinner. Andy wondered whether Miranda's daughters were aware that she and Miranda were sharing a room. Although Andy supposed they shouldn't for propriety's sake, she desperately wanted to feel Miranda next to her. Thankfully, it seemed that Miranda felt the same way. Soon they lay, legs entangled, thoughts of what they may face tomorrow firmly locked away. Instead, they kissed leisurely until they drifted off to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**McGonagall Manor, Scotland, Friday, April 18, 2014**

When Minerva opened her eyes on Friday morning, she was greeted with excited chirps and a long, melodious song. Smiling, Minerva rubbed her head against Hermione's chest before stretching her feline body and jumping off the bed. She transformed into her human form, not bothering to summon her clothes, before taking a good look at her soul mate. She had grown substantially overnight. In fact she was nearly the same size as her phoenix animagus had been before the forced rebirth. Her body had become larger and more defined, and gold and scarlet feathers covered her phoenix body. Hermione spread her wings and sailed around the room before returning to Minerva, landing on the bed next to her.

"That's wonderful, Hermione!" Minerva exclaimed, happy with her wife's progress. Seeing her in flight reassured her that Hermione was on the mend. Minerva felt her eyes fill with tears when Hermione began singing another joyous melody. "Beautiful," she murmured reverently. "Do you think you are strong enough to try transforming back to human form?" A string of excited chirps caused Minerva to smile. "Go ahead then, love."

Watching Hermione closely, she noted with relief that the transformation was quick and seamless. What made Minerva speechless, however, was how _young_ Hermione looked. Her mouth dropped open, viewing a version of Hermione that looked much as she had while a student. But, no, there were differences. Her glossy, dark hair, now streaked with golden strands, was still cropped closely, and her pixie-shaped face had defined cheekbones and a strong chin. The skin, though—oh, how Minerva wished she had such smooth, flawless skin! Shiny, healthy, wrinkle-free skin. Allowing her gaze to wander over her wife's nude body, her breath caught. Muscular, supple, and firm—Minerva felt arousal spike through her.

It was Hermione's bright eyes which convinced her that the woman she loved, the woman she had fallen in love with nearly fifteen years ago, was standing before her and not some young, innocent, unsullied girl. In those bronze eyes shone compassion, love, desire, and fear.

 _Fear?_ That would not do. Minerva swiftly pulled Hermione in to a tight embrace, their mouths crashing together. As soon as their lips met, Minerva felt hunger and passion overwhelm her. To think her beloved had nearly died yesterday. She would never have experienced these talented lips moving against hers again. When they finally parted, Hermione hugged her closely.

"I know I look younger, but it's me, Minerva. I have shared the last fifteen years with you. I have pledged myself to you. I could not live without you by my side," Hermione said, whispering the words into Minerva's ear as sure fingers ran down her back before resting on her hips and pulling her forward possessively.

Minerva pulled back and captured Hermione's hands. "Wait, mo Gràdh. Give me a moment." She could see the uncertainty in her wife's eyes and felt horrible, but her head and her heart were at war. She knew this was the same woman she had fallen in love with so long ago, but the fact that she looked now as she had then was unnerving. "I just, I need to talk about this with you." She held on to Hermione's hands tightly as they sat on the edge of the bed.

"Minerva, please," Hermione said, tears gathering in her eyes. "Please don't refuse me. I couldn't bear it."

"Shhh, my dear," Minerva said as she pulled Hermione in for another hug. "I could never refuse you. Never. I just need..." she shook her head, confused. What was her problem? This all came back to how Hermione did not seem to age while the years ravaged Minerva's body. She needed to reconcile herself to the fact that Hermione, for all intents and purposes, was ageless, immortal even, and that if Minerva wanted to remain with her, she would need to get used to Hermione's form. Minerva lifted her face to stare into dark, chocolate-colored eyes. "Hermione," she said brokenly. She ran shaking fingers over a defined cheekbone before resting it on the younger woman's neck. Her eyes trailed over Hermione's face before landing on the pulse point that jumped wildly at the base of her throat underneath Minerva's fingertips.

"Minerva, we fell in love after the war. I looked similar to how I do now, but I have not lost the memories we have created or the years of experiencing life by your side. I am the same woman you made love to in this very bed during the winter holiday fifteen years ago, the same woman you proposed to while we rolled in the heather up the hill ten years ago, the same woman who married you while the wizarding community watched a year after that."

Hearing the desperation in her wife's voice, Minerva felt horrible. She was causing Hermione pain. Minerva felt tears slide down her face. She was afraid that Hermione was leaving her behind—her ability to rejuvenate gave her untapped powers. Wasn't it just a matter of time until Hermione sought out someone younger? Someone who could keep up with her?

"Minerva!" Hermione practically shouted, jarring Minerva from her fearful thoughts as surely as the two strong hands that suddenly framed her face. "I am your wife, your friend, your confidante, and your soul mate. I have shared my life with you for fifteen years with the expectation that I will share the rest of my life with you."

Opening her mouth to object, Minerva found herself silenced by a stern scowl.

"We will share our lives together because I refuse to live without you," she said vehemently. "You made a vow to me. I made a vow to you. We are together. My soul is fed by yours. And this body," Hermione waved an arm in front of it in a downward motion, "is merely a shell, a means by which I can experience life. But my soul and my mind, Minerva, are not limited by it, as we have seen through my rebirth. Please, my love. Please, see past this, see past my physical form. Please recognize that I am still the same person—the person you love and desire."

Minerva gazed into her lover's eyes and saw love and passion, such familiar and reassuring emotions, in luminescent, bronze eyes. Minerva inhaled deeply before exhaling forcefully. These doubts were unworthy of the bond they shared. "I want to start drinking your phoenix tears. I want to remain by your side for as long as possible," Minerva said, conviction ringing in her words.

Strong arms pulled her in for a hug before Hermione kissed her hungrily. "I love you so much, Minerva, so much," Hermione said. "Make love to me. I need you. Let's see what this body can do."

Groaning at the feel of her wife's body pressed against hers and the promise in Hermione's eyes, Minerva pushed aside any residual feelings of unease and kissed her back forcefully. She allowed Hermione to pull her on the bed, and arched her back when her nipple was captured by succulent lips. "Her...mi...o...ne..." Minerva felt desire rush through her as Hermione touched her in just the ways she loved, the ways only Hermione knew from years of making love to her. It was Hermione's actions that reinforced how silly her fears were. This was her wife, regardless of the youth her body reflected. Her knowledge was present, her memories were present, their shared history was intact, and their love was unbreakable.

Widening her legs to accommodate Hermione as she settled between them, Minerva mewled in response to a wicked tongue lashing an erect nipple before sliding across to apply the same sweet torture on the other one. Minerva's head lolled to the side while her hands grabbed the bed sheets tightly. Her mind blanked as Hermione easily proved just how well she knew Minerva's body. It took mere minutes before Minerva felt her body shudder as an orgasm rolled through her. With a feral growl, Minerva flipped Hermione onto her back to begin her own glorious attack.

Memories of the first time they had made love stood out in Minerva's mind vividly. Hermione's flushed skin, hoarse cries, surging body—that cherished memory combined with the view of this unmarred body drove Minerva mad with passion. Minerva skimmed her teeth over Hermione's ribcage, stalling to nibble her bellybutton as Hermione cried out. Minerva became distracted with the indentation of her wife's hipbone, and moaning her appreciation, Minerva nipped at the area before continuing to Hermione's weeping center. She mercilessly licked the entire area, not pausing anywhere even though she heard Hermione urging her to concentrate on one area in particular. Minerva had learned over the years, however, that Hermione liked to experience the feeling of a building orgasm, enjoyed the anticipation as she gave herself over completely to Minerva, and although she would never admit it, Hermione loved being teased.

Relishing the sounds of whimpers and mewls her wife was making, Minerva tasted every inch while holding Hermione's lower body firmly against the bed. Eventually, several inventive expletives made Minerva pause. She'd never heard such foul words spill from her wife's pouty mouth before.

"Since when do you have such a potty mouth, _young lady_?" Minerva asked before delivering a long lick up the length of Hermione's womanhood.

"Minerva!" Hermione screeched. "If you don't make me come right now, I'll stuff the largest pair of hippogriff's hairy balls I can find down your throat!" Looking upward, she could see Hermione leaning on her elbows, her throat muscles defined as she strained for release. Hermione's eyes, reminiscent of coals, burned into Minerva, and she decided that it would be best to abandon such pleasurable foreplay, or as Hermione unfairly had labeled it a moment ago: the endless torment. Minerva did want Hermione to feel good, after all. Perhaps she had misjudged Hermione's urgency. Minerva felt her ardor increase at the thought that she had affected Hermione to such an extent.

With a last look into desperate eyes, Minerva leaned in and sucked strongly on the engorged bundle of nerves. Hermione emitted a high-pitched shriek and yelled, "HELL, YES!" Smirking, Minerva entered Hermione's drenched channel with two fingers just the way the younger witch liked it, quickly and forcefully. Minerva's eyebrows flew up when she felt her fingers slowed down by a tight channel and the tearing of a thin membrane. _Was that—?_ Minerva's mind trembled, perplexed, but her thoughts were interrupted by a gasp, one that reflected pain.

"Hermione?" Minerva said, concerned, and immediately stilled her movements.

"I'm fine. Don't you dare stop!" Hermione replied passionately and bucked against Minerva with enough force to let Minerva know she was serious.

Nodding, Minerva begin to suck the fluttering clitoris as she pushed inside Hermione's channel continually, curling her fingers against the grasping inner walls during each down stroke. Hermione pulled her legs back and held them up at the knees, totally exposing herself and allowing Minerva to penetrate her more deeply. Hermione's obvious flexibility and guttural sounds spurred Minerva on, and she groaned at how divine Hermione tasted. After only a few more strokes, she felt Hermione come undone, her body trembling violently as she shouted out Minerva's name. Rather excited by Hermione's response and undeniably possessive of her fabulously nubile body, knowing she was Hermione's only lover and had been gifted with the gift of her virginity twice, Minerva moved onto her back and opened her arms wide, hoping to Merlin that Hermione would touch her.

Hermione immediately climbed on top of Minerva and engaged her in a fiery kiss. Her hands roamed Minerva's body restlessly, leaving trails of fire wherever they touched. Minerva moaned her approval, the sound getting lost in Hermione's demanding mouth. When Hermione pulled away, Minerva moaned, "Nooo! Come back." Her eyes popped open at the husky laugh she heard. Tilting her head so she could watch what Hermione was doing, Minerva was hypnotized by what she saw. Glistening skin, dancing eyes, gleaming teeth, flexing muscles, arching back. "You are exquisite," Minerva murmured in a voice filled with awe. Minerva could hardly believe that this mesmerizing creature had pledged to love her.

Another sexy laugh filled the room, and Minerva smiled. She heard Hermione softly utter a spell, her breath tickling Minerva just where she needed her lover's tongue and lips and teeth.

Focused heat...heaviness...tingling...

Eyes widening in surprise, Minerva's mouth dropped open as she realized what was happening. Lips surrounded her engorged clitoris...heat...suction...wetness...Minerva thrust upward instinctually, howling at the sharp, intense sensation that engulfed her.

"I need you to know that I am yours. That I will always be yours. Just as you are mine," Hermione said, the tenor of her voice tugging Minerva's soul closer. "Age will never change that. Appearance will never change that. Life will never change that."

Hermione quickly turned around, straddled Minerva's lower body, and sank onto the new appendage fully. Minerva loudly vociferated nonsense words as Hermione rode her hard. The sensations were so powerful that she could do nothing except thrust repeatedly into Hermione. Their voices mingled while they sped up their coupling, each penetration ripping away more of Minerva's ability to think.

Placing her hands on Hermione's shapely hips, Minerva began pulling her lover down forcefully with each upward thrust.

"Ahhh," Hermione shouted lustily. "Yes!"

Minerva sat up and held onto rolling hips tightly as she began pounding into Hermione relentlessly. She moved her hands to cover bouncing breasts as she felt strong fingers grasping her widened thighs. She gasped with each feel of her breasts sliding against Hermione's slippery back. Hermione undulated against her, a string of groans fueling Minerva's desire. Minerva panted out, "You feel delicious, mo Gràdh. Only you make me feel this way. So out of control. So desirable. So impassioned. Can you feel what you're doing to me?"

Squeezing both hardened nipples as she pulled on them, Minerva reveled in Hermione's incoherent mutterings. An overwhelming hunger spurred Minerva to bite Hermione at the juncture of neck and shoulder, sucking strongly while her fingers continued to abuse Hermione's nipples. Hermione's internal walls began grasping at her, squeezing her, and she gave up trying to control her loud, verbal responses, now constant. Moments later, Minerva hardly felt the sting of fingernails drawing blood from her thighs as they roared their releases.

Hermione leaned forward and thrust three fingers into Minerva, pumping furiously while they sped up even more. "Ohhh....ahhh....Her...mi...ooohhh...neeee!!" Minerva howled as her next orgasm crashed through her. They slowed down, enjoying the aftershocks as they undulated together sinuously, Hermione's head resting on Minerva's shoulder. Minerva turned her head slightly to capture beads of perspiration as they rolled down Hermione's neck. She tasted salt and flesh.

Gasping when Hermione removed her fingers, Minerva wound her hands around the slim waist and hugged her tightly, enjoying their closeness.

Finally flopping back onto the bed, Minerva listened to her uneven breathing. Hermione's breathless "reducio" broke the sound of their panting, and a moment later Hermione lay on top of Minerva without bothering to turn over. Minerva promptly hugged the younger witch again and smiled as Hermione's arms rested on top of hers. Minerva inhaled Hermione's unique scent and purred.

"We will have to revisit that spell again. Soon," Minerva said softly, her thick Scottish brogue reflecting her strong emotions.

"Mmm, that was so sexy, the way you took me," Hermione said. She turned in Minerva's arms and gazed at her seriously. "Don't ever forget how much I love you. Desire you. _You._ I've given myself to you twice now, and each time I am reborn, it will be you," she smirked saucily, "who will turn me into a woman once again."

Guffawing, Minerva pulled her wife in for a lascivious kiss. "You are hardly a girl. I was daft to hesitate. I know you are the woman I fell in love with fifteen years ago, not some school girl. Forgive a foolish, old woman her insecurities."

"Don't be absurd! You are by no means old," Hermione said firmly.

Minerva smiled at Hermione's response and nodded. "No, but I do look like I am sixty years your senior. And right now I am tired. You have worn me out."

"Once you start drinking the phoenix tears regularly, I wager you will feel much more energetic. As for how you look, you are a wee stoatir, don't cha know."

Chuckling, Minerva ran her hands down a muscled back. "A stoatir, am I? Where did you pick up that word?"

"From you, of course! I have picked up many of your Scottish idioms over the years," Hermione answered with a wide smile.

Minerva felt her heart skip with the admission. Every once in a while Hermione would murmur a Scottish phrase. It pleased her on many levels that Hermione had taken the time to learn her native language. She squeezed the younger witch affectionately. "Can I interest you in a wee kip before we rise for the day? I cannae fathom moving another muscle right now."

"Knackered, are you? A nap sounds lovely," Hermione agreed in an amused voice as she slid off of Minerva and pulled up the sheets rumpled at their feet, covering their cooling bodies.

After another lingering kiss, Minerva spooned Hermione's body and closed her eyes. Who knew what they would face later in the day. She needed her body to be strong. At least she knew that Hermione would be right next to her. It made all the difference.

*** Roused by a crack rending the air, Minerva noticed Elsa standing respectfully at the end of her bed. "I am sorry to wake you, Mistress, but you have received a message from the Ministry to contact Mr. Potter," she said.

"Elsa, how many times over the years have I asked you to call me Minerva? You are a free elf and have been for more years than I care to remember," Minerva groused. A low chuckle alerted her that Hermione had awakened.

"You are still the mistress of the Manor," Elsa said serenely, bowing slightly. With that, she disapparated from the room.

"Fancy a shower, love? I'll wash your back," Hermione offered suggestively.

"Certainly."

Although tough to do while water sluiced over Hermione's magnificent curves, Minerva controlled herself enough to not ravish her wife. After a quick fire-call to Harry, they entered the dining room to find Miranda, Andrea, Caroline, and Cassidy seated, drinking tea.

"I hope we haven't kept you waiting long," Minerva said.

She could easily read the shock on their faces as they got their first look at Hermione.

"Professor! You look so young!" Cassidy blurted out. Caroline elbowed her, and her sister winced in pain even as her eyes flitted to Andrea with an apologetic look on her face.

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, I do. Over the next few days I will age more. It may not be to the way I used to look, but I will look more like the professor you know."

"Her appearance does not negate who she is or her life experiences," Minerva said a bit abruptly. She immediately regretted her dismissive words, but she felt protective toward her wife.

"Of course!" Andrea said. "Hermione, we know you're the same person." She grinned. "I wish I had such great-looking skin!"

"Your skin is...adequate," Miranda choked off. Minerva felt her eyebrows rise in surprise. She was quite sure that Miranda had just edited herself quite severely. She could see by the looks around the table that everyone had noticed. Andrea, in particular, looked stunned. Minerva worked hard to keep a smirk off her face as Miranda glared defiantly while valiantly ignoring the blush creeping up her throat, invading her normally alabaster skin.

"Um, thanks, Andy," Hermione said evenly. "Rebirth is better than any spa treatment available."

"All the same, I would rather they occur as rarely as possible, if it's all the same to you," Minerva said, seeing a look of understanding in Hermione's soft gaze. Deciding to redirect their attention, Minerva called for Elsa, and food appeared before everyone.

"I spoke to Harry. They were unable to confirm that the rogue dragons are being held in Bleaklow or obtain information on the eggs' whereabouts from the Death Eaters that we captured yesterday. Evidently, they are bound by Fidelius and Tongue-Tying Charms," Minerva began.

"Then how were Mom and Professor McGonagall able to get that information from the dragons?" Caroline asked.

"The Fidelius Charm does not bind magical animals. Harry has agreed to leniency in exchange for the Death Eaters to bring us to both places. However," Minerva continued, "I would not be surprised if they also have applied some powerful protective charms on the areas so that one cannot see either location even when standing in front of them."

"What do you suggest?" Miranda asked, eyebrow raised.

"We will apparate to the locations with our guides, but we will need to make our way onto them through less conventional means," Minerva said.

"What are you thinking, Minerva?" Hermione asked.

"You and I will recover the eggs while Miranda and Andrea free the dragons," Minerva suggested. "Such charms have no effect on phoenixes." Minerva looked at her niece. "Or on dragons. Once inside, we will have to disarm the protective charms so that the Aurors can join us. I suspect time will be against us since they are undoubtedly using intrusion charms, too."

"We can send a Patronus once we rescue the eggs. That way Miranda and Andy can inform the dragons that their progeny are safe," Hermione suggested.

"Mmm, yes. Perhaps they will be more willing to turn on the Death Eaters. At the least, they will cease attacking us," Miranda mused.

"Let us come with you," Cassidy said.

"Absolutely not," Miranda said firmly. "I will not have you in harm's way."

"But, Mom, we are hardly defenseless! We have learned all manner of spells and are at the top of our Charms class. Aren't we, Professor?" Cassidy directed toward Andrea. Seeing her nod, Cassidy continued. "We are no longer children, and if we become Aurors, these are the types of situations we will be facing," Cassidy continued.

"Plus, you won't be able to protect yourselves while you're trying to remove the charms they've placed on the land or on the dragons. We can protect you until backup arrives," Caroline added.

Minerva agreed with the Priestly twins. Although young, they were hardly defenseless. She understood, even if Miranda did not, that they had something to prove to their mother. "I will not object to their participation," Minerva said slowly. She noted the surprised looks around the table and smiled slightly. After a few tense moments where Miranda and Andrea stared at each other, Miranda looked over at her daughters and nodded her consent.

"Very well," Minerva said as she rose. "They will be here soon." The floo at the end of the room activated, and Minerva pressed her lips together. "That must be them. Gather whatever you need, and we will leave momentarily." Sparing a loving gaze at Hermione as the others left the room, Minerva walked over to an antique buffet and retrieved a vial.

"Are you going to drink it now?" Hermione's lovingly asked as arms slid around her waist from behind.

"Aye. Who knows what the day will bring. This may give me more stamina," Minerva said.

"Oh, love, you have plenty of stamina," Hermione said, a sensual laugh traveling down Minerva's spine.

Smirking at her wife, Minerva raised the vial of phoenix tears. "To life. May we share it for endless days and countless nights." She drank it quickly, and sighed as she felt energy flow through her. She felt invigorated. Turning to Hermione, she kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear, "As I proved this morning, I am rather attached to your lovely form. I expect the opportunity to explore it more thoroughly tonight."

"Any more thoroughly and I won't be able to walk," Hermione muttered. They walked toward the assembled Ministry officials and bound Death Eaters as Minerva allowed a small smile to cover her face.

"Quite right, mo Gràdh," Minerva said in a low voice, pleased to see her wife shiver at the thought. "Quite right."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18a**

**McGonagall Manor, Scotland, and Bleaklow, Dark Peak District, England**

**Friday, April 18, 2014**

Miranda made her way to where the guest bedroom was located, Andrea right behind her. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Miranda slammed the door and rounded on the younger witch.

"How dare you tell me what to do with my children," she growled.

"I did not!" Andrea answered in a wounded voice which Miranda promptly ignored. "I was just offering another perspective."

"Don't be absurd. As if you have any idea what it is like to raise a child," she said in a scathing voice.

Miranda began throwing her belongings into her beige Nicoli leather carryall bag, ignoring Andrea. She was angry, so angry she could feel it rolling through her in waves. Of course, she knew it had nothing to do with Andrea's overstepping while they were having breakfast with everyone that was causing these emotions, although the telepathic ambush she had been subjected to while Andrea sought to convince her to allow her daughters to accompany them today had annoyed her immensely.

A hand on her shoulder pulled her backward into Andrea's muscular body as the other arm wrapped around her waist. "You don't get to talk to me that way!" Andrea hissed into her ear. Miranda wriggled in the strong arms, letting her discontent at being manhandled be known.

"Release me," Miranda enunciated slowly.

"Not until you listen to reason. If I had intended to embarrass you or to undercut your authority, why would I have spoken to you telepathically? I would have voiced my opinion out loud, and everyone else would have heard me," Andrea said in exasperation. Miranda did not respond, standing stiffly in Andrea's embrace. "Miranda!"

Hardly able to believe it, Miranda felt Andrea shaking her as if she were a little ragdoll. Huffing, Miranda said, "Andrea. Really." She breathed in deeply when she felt Andrea's forehead resting on the back of her head.

 _Why am I so angry, anyway?_ If she were being honest, she would have to admit that the way Andrea had handled the situation had been rather thoughtful. So what was driving her emotions? Her thoughts skittered toward the tasks awaiting them, but she shied away from such reflections. She didn't want to think about the possibility that they might fail, that they might get hurt, that her daughters might get hurt, that _Andrea_ might get hurt. Or worse. She just wanted to take solace in the powerful arms that were wrapped around her, squeezing her gently as she was pulled closer toward the warm body behind her. Her eyes fluttered closed, and Miranda indulged in the feelings of strength, and affection, and rightness.

"Miranda," Andrea whispered, stirring the hair next to Miranda's ear. "In case something happens to me, I want you to know that I—"

Eyes flying open, Miranda turned quickly as her hand shot out to cover Andrea's mouth, stopping her from completing a sentence Miranda could not bear to hear. "Don't!" Miranda watched dark, liquid eyes widen with surprise. Not able to resist, Miranda outlined those succulent lips with trembling fingers, her eyes focused on how they parted, puffs of air hitting her palm.

_Miranda, please._

Shaking her head, Miranda broke free of Andrea's loose embrace and strode to the bureau to remove the rest of her belongings. She laid out the dragon hide apparel on the bed and took off her blouse.

"You aren't wearing those, are you?" Andrea said in a disgusted voice.

Sighing forcefully, Miranda speared Andrea with a fierce look. "Andrea, I realize that it is dragon hide and that you have experienced rather intense, negative reactions to my wearing them, but they have protective qualities I need when interacting with dragons."

"Well, isn't that great. Why don't I just skin someone and wear them as a coat. That won't gross you out, will it?" Andrea said sarcastically.

"It is _not_ the same!" Miranda shouted, her hands balled into fists. She turned to the window and stared blankly at the view of the loch, appalled by her outburst. She could not remember the last time she had raised her voice in anger. She felt out of control and desperate. _Why, though? Why do I feel so agitated?_ She felt Andrea approaching slowly and grimaced. Gentle hands ran up her back and rested on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry. It probably won't even affect me when I'm in my animagus form. And even if it does, I want you to be protected. Please. I don't want to go into this battle while you are angry with me," Andrea said softly.

Turning, Miranda gazed into Andrea's sorrowful eyes. "I am not angry with you. I," Miranda sighed, "I am sorry." Miranda ignored Andrea's stunned look and pulled her forward for a tight hug. Her lips sought out Andrea's, and she kissed the younger witch fervently. She moaned softly as she explored Andrea's mouth, calming down as she reveled in the friction of their tongues rubbing together. Groaning, Miranda luxuriated in the decadence of Andrea's taste. She admitted to herself that she did not want this to be their last kiss.

She would not allow this to be their last kiss.

When it broke, Miranda stepped back. She smirked as Andrea's eyes traveled over her bare torso, the arousal in her eyes apparent. "We have to change and join the others. I am sure they are wondering where we are," Miranda said huskily, regretting the fact that she could not take Andrea to bed and forget their responsibilities.

"When we get back, and I know we will, I am going to make you forget your own name, you'll be screaming mine so often," Andrea whispered, a promise shining in her eyes.

"That is a promise I hope you will keep," Miranda whispered.

"I will. You'll see," Andrea said.

Without another word they dressed and joined the others. Andrea stood next to Miranda, even though she looked nauseous. Miranda squashed down her concern. There was simply no help for it. She needed to protect herself, and these clothes would defend her from dragon fire and many of the curses that Death Eaters loved to cast.

"I'm okay. Just a slight reaction to the dragon hide, but I want your mom to be safe," Andrea said suddenly. Miranda looked over and saw her two daughters standing next to Andrea. Perplexed, Miranda wondered how she had missed her daughters' questions. Obviously, she had been woolgathering.

Miranda looked around and noticed that everyone was present. It was time.

"Right. So, we will split into two groups. I will go with the Dragon Whisperer, her daughters, and Professor McGonagall, and Ron will go with Hermione and the Headmistress," Harry said.

"Call me Andy," Andrea inserted.

"And I prefer to be called Miranda," she said. Harry nodded at both of them.

"Right. Hermione, when you get to the location, you'll turn into your phoenix animagus and transport everyone onto the compound. Don't worry about disarming any spells unless they are detrimental to your mission. I suspect they will know of your arrival pretty quickly, so stealth will not be your priority. Just find the eggs and get out of there. Then, send a Patronus to us so we can let the dragons know. Although the Death Eaters we interrogated weren't able to reveal the exact location, they were able to tell us that the eggs are all together in an enclosure. Do whatever is necessary to retrieve the eggs," Harry continued. He looked at Ron. "Is your team ready?"

"Yes. We have five," Ron answered.

"Good. You can all apparate together by holding on to Hermione," Harry said.

"How? I thought side-along apparations could only occur with up to three or four people," Caroline asked in confusion.

"That is a common misconception. In truth, the more people who apparate together, the stronger the drain on the lead apparator's magic. The limitations inherent with side-along apparations are proportional to the strength of that person's magic," Minerva said.

Harry looked at Miranda. "Miranda, I have seven people on my team and two dozen more will be ready to join us once the spells have been disarmed. We'll want to work on silencing any intrusion charms, reversing any anti-apparation spells, and disarming any protective spells immediately. My team will focus on those while you, Andy, and your daughters locate the dragons and reverse the Imperius Curses. If at all possible, stay under cover while you do it so the Death Eaters will not find you. The longer we have before they engage us in duels, the better. We fully expect that the majority of remaining Death Eaters will be there." Miranda nodded her understanding.

"We have already checked out the locations where the Death Eaters claim we need to go. We'll apparate in pairs," Harry said. Miranda tuned out his directives once he paired her up with some man named Williamson. She glanced at her daughters. They looked excited. So young. They did not yet know when to be afraid. And they should be afraid. Very afraid.

_I will protect them. And they might just surprise you. They are not the young girls who used to attend Dalton._

Bronze eyes captured hers when Miranda looked at Andrea. She wanted to believe her words. If anyone could protect them, it was Andrea. Nodding, Miranda pressed her lips together. She needed to concentrate on the mission. Andrea was right. Her daughters were adults now. She could not allow her fears to distract her.

"In case we get separated, we will meet back here. Just make sure to send a Patronus to let the others know. If you become outnumbered and have the chance to escape, take it. No one will think less of you," Harry said.

As one, they nodded their understanding.

"Time to put the Death Eaters out of business for good," Harry said. "Let's go."

Several pops and cracks sounded around Miranda as people disapparated, then a strong grip on her arm signaled her imminent departure. A spike of adrenalin roared through her. She felt the familiar tug beneath her bellybutton, saw a funnel of rapidly changing places falling in on themselves, and landed on a barren stretch of land.

It was cold and overcast. A strong wind pulled at her clothes as she looked around. They were standing on a boggy, peat-covered moorland dotted with broken outcrops of gritstone. The sparse vegetation, large boulders, and sharp cliffs were strangely attractive in this wild land. She could see the cloughs cutting into the countryside, creating deep tracks, as if some God had spread his fingers and dug them through the land, much like a little boy raking sand at the beach.

"After I transform, everyone climb on, and I will fly us to the compound. Stand back," Andrea instructed.

Although she had already seen the transformation once before, Miranda's jaw slackened while witnessing Andrea turn into her dragon animagus. She was stunning. Magnificent. Sleek. Muscular. Dangerous.

 _Miranda, get on._ Andrea's puissant voice rang clearly through Miranda's mind, feeding her stupefaction. The pure power Andrea embodied sparked a fire within Miranda, and she fought her response by tapping into the self-discipline she had honed over the years, knowing how inappropriate the timing was for her to be immobilized by lust.

 _Not just lust_ , Miranda admitted to herself _._ No. It was much more. Her mind danced around the words, an act she found herself doing much too often of late, unwilling to admit to herself the depth of her feelings for this incredible creature.

Shaking her head to clear it, Miranda signaled to the others to follow her and bravely climbed on Andrea's cerulean back. She held a hand out to help Caroline, who stepped on Andrea's extended leg and hopped up behind her. Cassidy was next, then Williamson. Six other Aurors scrambled onto Andrea's back, and Harry climbed up last. Miranda marveled at how many of them fit.

 _Hold on_ , Andrea directed _._

Miranda yelled the directive to the others.

Clenching her thighs around Andrea's muscular neck, Miranda leaned forward to grip one of the spikes that protruded in a line from the top to the base of the dragon animagus's skull. She felt Caroline's arms around her waist tightening convulsively as Andrea squatted down and pushed into the sky forcefully. Miranda felt exhilarated. She could feel the muscles shifting beneath her as Andrea navigated toward a sheer-faced canyon.

 _I can see the structures. I will circle around from the north and land across the field from them so that we can attempt to remain unseen_ , Andrea thought _._

 _Be careful_ , Miranda directed unnecessarily. She snorted at her silliness. Andrea could take care of herself. They landed on a cliff that overlooked the structures. Everyone quickly dismounted and lay on the rocky ground behind a row of haphazardly positioned boulders. About a hundred yards behind them the cliff-side ended, dropping sharply into the vale. Miranda watched Andrea change back into her human form and sway, as if dizzy. Miranda grabbed her, providing support.

"I'm okay," Andrea said. Miranda quirked an eyebrow, skeptical. "No, really. I'm fine now." Andrea stepped away, and Miranda had no choice but to drop her hand.

They crouched behind the boulders, and Miranda quieted her mind, extending her consciousness outward to search for the dragons. She could feel an immenseness along the edges of her mind but nothing more. Distractedly, Miranda heard an explosion and felt a wave of heat, but she did not break her concentration. She trusted the others to keep her safe.

"I need to get closer," Miranda finally admitted, frustrated. She turned to Harry. "I cannot connect with the dragons' minds from here. How much longer before the protective spells are disarmed?"

"Not long. We're just checking to make sure there are no unpleasant surprises—" Harry stopped mid-sentence, a loud roar causing them to look toward several large structures about three hundred yards away. Two dragons flew out of the buildings toward the lowering clouds before looping around, the dragons' destination obviously where they remained crouched behind the enormous stones.

"Shit!" Caroline squeaked.

"Martin, we really need those spells reversed. Now!" Harry called. "Georgia, Linus, Robbie, Kevin—make a circle around them. Hurry!"

"Well, we don't have to worry about proximity any more. I'll take the Hebridean Black. You take the Ridgeback," Andrea yelled out. The dragons were quite close now, roaring, spewing fire, and generally causing quite a commotion.

Flinching as a stream of fire rained over them, the protective shield the Aurors had created acting as an umbrella, Miranda trained her mind on her assigned dragon. Vaguely she heard people shouting and running, but Miranda felt as if she were far removed from all the activities as she moved through the molasses-like sludge that the dragon's mind had become as a result of the Curse. She kept her focus on finding the core of the dragon's essence—that small ball of light hiding in the deepest recesses of the dragon's mind, trapped and defenseless. Miranda found the bindings created by the Imperius Curse and cut through them methodically.

_Who are you?_

_I am the Dragon Whisperer. You were under an Imperius Curse. We have come to free you._

_My eggs!_

_Do not worry. We are freeing them, too. Will you help us fight the people who enslaved you?_

_Once you have freed the eggs, I shall. However, until then, I must attack._

_No! Pretend to attack our front lines, but breathe your fire on the Death Eaters or the buildings. I give you my word, your young will be safe in a matter of minutes._

Miranda heard no answer, but the dragon roared so loudly that the land beneath her feet shook. She dropped to one knee, only then realizing that another four dragons had taken to the sky. She noticed that the two she had freed of the Curse the day before flew along the edges, screeching and diving toward them but not actually attacking. Meanwhile, the Ridgeback she had just freed soared toward the western flank where a dozen or so Aurors battled with just as many Death Eaters.

Wind blew ash into Miranda's face, and she started, recognizing that the protective shield was not holding. She looked around and saw Andrea, blood running down her arm, which was extended as she dueled with two Death Eaters. Her daughters stood between them with their wands pointed above their heads while they reinforced the shield. Spells pummeled their tenuous defense, and the girls called for help. Several Aurors ran over, their wands extended as their mouths moved, incantations floating on the wind.

 _Did you free the Hebridean Black?_ Miranda asked Andrea silently. It was easier than attempting to be heard over the sounds of destruction, and shouting, and screeching surrounding them.

_Yes. We need to free the last two._

Miranda watched as Andrea flicked her wand and several large rocks flew toward her opponents, splitting apart and burning trails through the air. The red-hot projectiles rained on her attackers, who were unable to deflect all of them. They became bloodied and grim-faced as they sought to break through Andrea's defenses, and Miranda watched as two more Death Eaters joined the fight. Miranda looked around but could not find anyone to help. She quickly aimed at one of Andrea's attackers.

"Immobulus! Petrificus Temporus!"

Not expecting Miranda's attack, the dark wizard fell on the ground heavily, his stiff body rocking back and forth as if it were a coin dropped onto a tabletop. Miranda watched as Andrea's other attacker was thrown backward while his wand sailed through the air in the other direction. Miranda and Andrea both unleashed more spells at the remaining two Death Eaters they faced. Together they created a mesh that expanded as their attackers' spells hit it. Once the mesh reached them, it bound them with a sticky consistency that adhered to every part of their bodies, tightening the more they struggled.

 _We have to free the other two dragons_ , Miranda thought to Andrea. She was worried that they were running out of time. _I'll take the Vipertooth._ She watched Andrea nod her consent as she turned toward the other dragon, the Romanian Longhorn. Miranda's eyes searched the sky for the copper-colored dragon, ready to dive into the Vipertooth's cursed mind and free it. She took another moment to reassure herself that her daughters were faring well. They were fighting alongside Harry and two other Aurors. Watching them as they held their own, Miranda felt pride well up in her breast.

Taking a deep breath, Miranda dove into the Vipertooth's mind, pushing through the Curse's barriers without finesse. She knew that this type of invasion was probably hurting the dragon, but time was not on her side. She felt the layers of confusion, grief, and anger underneath the haze of forced commands, and she reached out with her mind.

 _Watch out!_ a voice rang through her mind, breaking her concentration.

 _Caroline?_ Miranda wondered. _How—?_

A thunderous blow pushed Miranda across the moorland, cutting her off mid-thought. Her body twisted through the air, as her discombobulated mind scrabbled to make sense of what was happening. For a timeless moment she could not understand why she was falling. Fear lanced through her as her eyes caught sight of the barren land at the bottom of the canyon rocketing toward her at an alarmingly fast pace.

 _Mom! Holy fuck!_ Cassidy's voice rang through Miranda's mind.

Considering she was seconds away from a most painful death, Miranda decided that Cassidy's unfortunate choice of words was rather warranted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Don't hate me for the cliffhanger! The second part is finished and betaed. I promise to post it soon. I hope you enjoyed!


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18b**

**Loch Striven, Scotland, and Bleaklow, Dark Peak District, England**

**Friday, April 18, 2014**

"Ready?" Ron asked, his eyes landing on each member of their team as they nodded. They had just arrived at the destination they had extracted from the captured Death Eaters. Now it was time to find the eggs. When his eyes stalled on Hermione's she nodded in a very un-phoenix-like way. She watched him grin. "Okay, then. Go ahead, Hermione."

Trilling her understanding, Hermione focused on the filmy view before her and apparated across the wooded area to the edge of the treeline. It thrilled her to find that she was able to see through any spells seeking to hide an area as easily as focusing on a view through the rain. She felt everyone except Minerva let go of her once she finished their apparation, and Hermione looked into loving, emerald eyes, finding the strength she needed.

Straight ahead, the western shoreline of Loch Striven stretched out. The air was misty and cool. The smell of moist sand leading into the loch tickled her nose, and she listened to the trees creaking as they blocked the wind and cast shadows across the vibrant grass. Birds sang in defiance of the cloudy day, and their melodies tempted Hermione to join in with her distinctive voice.

"We were told that the eggs are in a man-made enclosure at the edge of the woods, but we will have to search for it," Ron said in a low voice.

"No doubt it is guarded. It is best we keep together. Homenum revelio," Minerva said, staring at the northern corps of trees. Hermione watched her turn in each direction, casting the spell that would reveal whether anyone was in close proximity. When that yielded no results, Hermione opened her mouth and asked for help from the nearby birds. Briefly, all songs ceased, and then a multitude of sounds filled the air, providing her with vital information. Turning to her wife, Hermione wiggled, her message clear.

Transforming back to her human form, Hermione said, "The eggs are in a cave north of us. They saw seven Death Eaters last count relieving five others two hours ago. This way." Hermione took the lead, walking along the edge of the forest.

"They told you all that?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Not in those words exactly. They used words like 'unborn flying lizards' and 'unwashed evil ones' to answer my questions," Hermione answered. "We should go."

They walked through two endless rows of mature trees, the natural path camouflaged by a colorful latticework of leaves. They progressed slowly, casting various spells to confirm no one was lying in wait to ambush them and no hexes were barring their way. Eventually, the trees thinned out, and they approached the side of a majestic mountain.

"I should turn back into my animagus form. No doubt they are using disillusionment and protective spells to hide themselves and the cave. As a phoenix I'll be able to see through them and locate where they are. I'll whistle the number of Death Eaters that are in front of the cave and stare at the location so you'll know where to focus," Hermione said. She waited a moment in case anyone had questions before transforming to her phoenix form.

Hermione flew to the edge of the forest and focused on the mountainside directly ahead. She could see magic pulsing through the air, and she easily recognized a series of caves, no doubt hidden from everyone else's eyes. Pausing under the cover of the trees, Hermione emitted five long whistles and circled Minerva before landing and staring at the hidden cave entrance where she knew the eggs were.

"I suggest that you and your team attack whoever is awaiting us at that cave," Minerva said to Ron in a soft voice as she pointed to their left, "while Hermione and I apparate in to find the eggs. Now, let's remove those spells so that we can see our _friends,_ " Minerva said, a sarcastic tinge lacing her voice. Everyone nodded, easily acceding to Minerva's experience and leadership. All the members of their team began chanting and pointing their wands toward the hidden cave. Magic coated Hermione's body, and she cocked her head as she caught movement at the cave to the left of their position.

Moments later the shroud of haze dissipated around the cave, and the Aurors began their attack in earnest. Hermione felt Minerva's strong grip around her torso, providing Hermione with all the incentive she needed to disapparate. After scant moments they arrived in the small den. Toward the back of the humid cave, a large nest made of branches, heather, and leaves was filled with large, irregular-shaped oval eggs. Some were black, others a chestnut-brown—light blue, ruby-red, emerald green—the eggs were varied and as shiny as glossed marble.

A red beam streamed passed Hermione's body, and Minerva whipped her wand toward the two Death Eaters bracketing the nest while holding Hermione close to her chest, firing a volley of spells. Squirming, Hermione let out a screech that momentarily stopped the Death Eaters' attacks. Minerva's grip became slack, and Hermione flew at the attacker to their left, feet extended so that she could inflict the most damage. As her claws made contact, she emitted another fearsome screech, so loud that it echoed off the walls, bouncing around their compact confines.

As the Death Eater Minerva was fighting fell to the ground, bound with several branches that no doubt Minerva had taken from the nest, Hermione pulled off the mask of the Death Eater she was attacking by using her razor-sharp claws and shrieked her fury when she recognized Pansy Parkinson. The Slytherin had escaped from the MacFusty Dragon Sanctuary yesterday just as the Aurors had arrived to round up their attackers. Renewing her attack, Hermione snapped with her beak at the dark witch's hands that covered her head and, using wandless magic, stunned the odious woman.

Flying to the nest, Hermione felt the heat of a warming spell caress her as she landed on it. She counted eleven eggs. Minerva joined her as the Aurors entered the cave, some looking a bit worse for wear but none hurt badly.

"Well, will wonders never cease. Looks like they were over-confident. Let's get these eggs over to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. From there we will join the others," Ron said.

"Those two black eggs must be brought to the MacFusty sanctuary," Minerva said.

"Right. Avery can transport those and then rejoin us at Bleaklow," Ron said. Each Auror hefted the eggs in their arms and prepared to leave. Hermione transformed back to her human form and called forth a Patronus to send to Andy, Miranda, and Harry while Minerva sent her own. As soon as she finished, she transformed back into her animagus form.

"There must be an anti-apparation spell in effect," Avery muttered.

"Hermione, we'll hold on to you. Go to MacFusty's first," Ron began but stopped as a stag Patronus appeared before them.

"We have removed the protective spells. You should be able to apparate in without problem. Hurry. Their forces are larger than we anticipated," it said in Harry's voice.

"Let's go," Ron said grimly.

Everyone stepped forward and held tightly as Hermione pictured the Hebridean dragons' sanctuary. As soon as they appeared, Avery let go, and Ron directed her to bring the rest of them to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. In the blink of an eye, they were at the entrance to the famed dragon sanctuary. Charlie Weasley opened the gates as soon as he saw them.

"You got them, then?" Charlie said.

"What do you think?" Ron answered in a huff. "Where do you want them?"

Everyone followed as Charlie led them toward some structures on the far side of the sanctuary. Hermione rested in Minerva's arms comfortably, content to rest after expending so much energy. Although over the years her endurance had improved while exerting herself, it wasn't often that she apparated so many times while in her animagus form, and certainly not while transporting so many other people. Hermione tweeted softly, comforted by the rhythmic strokes of Minerva's hand down her back.

Leaning against her wife's chest, Hermione allowed her mind to roam. Soon, they would travel to Bleaklow and finish this fight. Hopefully, the others were faring as well as they had. Hermione feared that was not the case, though. Harry's earlier words reverberated in her mind. If the majority of Death Eaters were holed up in Bleaklow, she had no doubt that the battle would be fierce. Harry had a way of attracting trouble. Hermione just hoped that they arrived in time to counteract his unique ability to draw every nefarious wizard within the magical community to him.

***

**Bleaklow, Dark Peak District, England**

_Help my mom!_ Andy heard, the plea breaking her concentration.

Shaking her head, she looked around, only to see Miranda pushed off the cliff by a powerful Impediment jinx. Andy ran after her and jumped off the edge head first as if she were diving into the deep end of a pool, picking up speed while she changed into her dragon animagus. Her heavier body quickly caught up to Miranda, and she was impressed to hear Miranda shout, "Aresto Momentum," and a cushioning spell as she reached her. Just before Miranda reached the jagged rocks, Andy's claws wrapped around her lover's waist and transported her through the air. Andy noticed that Miranda had fallen close enough to the land that her boots dragged through the overgrown wildflowers, and she shuddered.

 _I've got you_ , Andy declared.

 _Thank you, Andrea_ , Miranda answered, the tone of her thoughts relating her relief. Andy could feel Miranda's focus return to the Vipertooth's mind to break the Curse, and she remained silent. Instead she wheeled around the curve of the valley, looking for a place to land. She needed to make sure Miranda was not hurt before they returned to the fray.

 _Is the Longhorn free of the curse?_ Miranda asked.

  1. Andrea wheeled onto a cliff-side and landed on her hind legs, releasing Miranda. She transformed into her human form and pulled Miranda into a tight hug. Andy broke the embrace a moment later, her eyes jumping over Miranda face and body repeatedly. "Are you all right?"



"Yes, yes. I'm fine, Andrea." Miranda said, framing Andrea's face with her hands and forcing Andy to stop her inspection. "I am not hurt."

Andy allowed the last few minutes to run through her mind, and the thought of how close she had come to losing Miranda made her tremble. Andy welcomed Miranda's lips brushing against hers. She fought against the abject fear that threatened to overwhelm her now that she had time to consider what had happened. But those sweet lips were caressing hers, cajoling hers, communicating that the love of her life was safe and present. Andy relaxed into Miranda's arms as their lips met again and again, tongues gently rubbing as they held each other closely.

When Miranda leaned back slightly, Andy opened her eyes to a soft smile. "You are amazing, darling," Miranda murmured.

Sighing contentedly in response to Miranda's thumbs softly rubbing over Andy's pronounced cheekbones, Andy smiled back before receiving another tender kiss. "We need to get back," Andy said with regret.

They were on the far side of the cliff, several hundred yards from Miranda's daughters and the Aurors. With the dragons released from the Curse, Andy knew their enemies would become desperate and even more dangerous.

As they turned, a bright-white, translucent phoenix flew to them, hovering in the air. "The eggs are safe. We are transporting all but the Hebridean Black eggs to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary now. The Hebrides' eggs will go to the MacFusty Dragon Sanctuary," the Patronus said in Hermione's voice.

Just then a griffin Patronus flew to them and trotted to a landing as her wings folded against its lanky, equine body. "Ronald and his team will be joining you shortly. We will apparate over as soon as we can. Harry has informed us that the anti-apparation charms have been removed. Keep safe," it said in Minerva's voice. Andy watched as Miranda's eyebrows rose.

"Quite a couple—both have magical creatures as their Patronuses," Miranda remarked.

"Hmm, Aunt Minerva's Patronus used to be a cat if I recall correctly," Andy mused. "I wonder when it changed."

"And what is yours?" Miranda asked curiously.

"Last time I checked, it was a crocodile, but I have read that a Patronus can change over time, depending on one's abilities and experiences. Many times they match one's animagus, but in my aunt's case that is obviously no longer the case," Andy said. "What is your Patronus?"

Miranda shrugged elegantly. "I have no idea. I haven't cast a Patronus in nearly thirty years. Back then, it was a salamander."

Andy smiled warmly. They maintained their gaze until Andy transformed into her animagus form once again. _Get on_ , she directed. _It will be quicker, and I will be able to communicate with the dragons more easily in this form._

Miranda climbed onto Andy's back, and Andy felt a primal hunger fill her as Miranda's thighs squeezed her muscular neck. Andy leapt into the air, trumpeting her elation as they rose through the sky. A vision of soaring through the clouds, Miranda naked—arms wide, head tipped back, and bucking as an orgasm overwhelmed her—took Andy by surprise. She watched in her mind's eye as the desire expanded, developing into a vivid, erotic fantasy.

 _We will make that fantasy a reality_ , Andy promised, her mind conjuring numerous scenarios as she flew toward the rest of their group. Desire rushed through Andy's body at the possibilities.

 _I would not be averse_ , Miranda admitted.

Andy roared as passion filled her. Controlling such desires, she focused on the work they still had before them. _We have retrieved your eggs. They are safe. Help us to defeat those who enslaved you and threatened your children or else join your brethren at the sanctuaries,_ Andy announced to all the dragons simultaneously.

To Andy's utter satisfaction, roars and screeches filled the sky as the six dragons joined ranks behind her and turned their collective might and fury toward the structures where they had been forced to remain. As one they aimed deadly streams of fire, incinerating everything within their paths within seconds. When they turned toward the various groups of people still dueling, a large number of Death Eaters dropped their wands and surrendered.

Craning her head, Andy saw several Death Eaters continuing to fight in small groups. Narrowing her eyes, she watched as a group ran out of a burning structure and aimed their wands at them. _Lean forward!_ Miranda directed urgently, tightening her legs around Andy's neck so that she would not fall off while holding her wand in front of her.

Andy roared and shot a strong blast of blue fire at their attackers while Miranda threw spell after spell at them, using the weather, the land, the debris, anything and everything to incapacitate them. Andy weaved in and out of the clouds, and the other dragons provided interference. Andy bared her teeth, power thrumming through her, as she watched a ball of ice encased in fire pass her ear and speed toward a group huddled near the husk of a burning building. Miranda's fighting skills were as fierce as her grip on the fashion world.

A phoenix flew parallel to Andy's flight path off to Miranda's right, releasing a beautiful trill before circling under them and landing next to Minerva, who was busy disarming the remaining Death Eaters who had attempted to attack Andy and Miranda. Andy wasted no time landing next to them, feeling that her energy reserves were depleted. She turned back to her human form, and it was only then that she realized she had suffered wounds.

Feeling weakness overtake her body, Andy's knees buckled just as Miranda shouted her name and ran to her. Miranda grabbed her around the waist in time to prevent her from hitting the ground hard. Andy felt Miranda and her aunt lower her to the ground and begin examining her so they could determine how extensive her injuries were.

"Andrea," Miranda moaned in an upset voice. Andy winced, the pain throbbing behind her eyes and down her chest. Even though it was cloudy, the light present still knifed through her senses. With an agonized moan, Andy closed her eyes.

"She's strong, Miranda. She will be fine," Aunt Minerva's calm voice stated firmly.

Andy lay on the cold ground, not having enough energy to move. She needed a few moments to catch her breath. "I'm all right," Andy said weakly. "Just a little tired. I can get up." Andy tried to rise but hissed as her muscles protested.

"We need Hermione. Find her, and tell her to come here," Andy distantly heard Aunt Minerva say to Miranda.

Andy tried to track Miranda's progress, but she found she could not keep her eyes open. She could hear Aunt Minerva uttering medical diagnostic spells, and she marveled at just how knowledgeable she was. Taking some deep breaths as she felt fingers gently lifting her jumper away from a sore area, Andy heard the distinctive warbling trill of Hermione's animagus. A phoenix's tear landed on her chest, and Andy felt magic sweep through her.

A malevolent voice cut through the air, ringing unpleasantly across the moor. "Surrender, or I will kill your uncle!"

Grinding her teeth in frustration, Andy sat up slowly and searched the area. She saw the speaker's sneering countenance. Millicent Bulstrode. She held Miranda's uncle by the arm, her wand pressed against his throat. Shaking her head, Andy tried to make sense of the events unfolding. _Wasn't he a Death Eater? Hadn't he been behind all the attacks?_

Staring, Andy noticed a milky film covering his eyes entirely. _Miranda, look at his eyes!_ Andy thought urgently, fighting back the pain she was experiencing so that she could concentrate on freeing him from the Curse. This was much harder in her human form, particularly since she was so tired. She felt the drain on her magic, and felt the prickle of tears borne from frustration lining up for release.

 _Mom, he's under the Imperius Curse!_ Andy heard Caroline's thoughts directed toward her mother. It seemed that the more Andy used this new ability to telepathically listen and speak her thoughts, the better she could tap into conversations not even directed toward her. It was as if she had turned on a radio and tuned into a particular station.

Andy connected with Theodorus Princhek's mind and felt the tell-tale cottony texture that signified the Curse was in effect. She pulled out of the man's mind when she heard Millicent's voice taunting Miranda.

"Did you really think he was clever enough, powerful enough to lead us?" Her laugh was tinged with cruelty. "He was just a pawn, a way for us to communicate with those stupid beasts," she derided the dragons. "Such a waste—such a rare gift, and he defected. So weak, so pitiful. Did you know he tried to find you?" she taunted.

Turning to her aunt, Andy said softly, "I am not strong enough to remove the Curse."

Aunt Minerva patted her hand as she helped Andy lie back down. "I will do it."

 _Miranda, keep her talking. Aunt Minerva is removing the Curse from your uncle_ , Andy projected into Miranda's mind.

"What do you mean, he tried to find me?" Miranda asked.

"After the second war he lost faith in our cause. He had the gall to express happiness for the murder of the greatest Dark Lord of our time by that weak upstart!" the deranged witch shouted while pointing her wand at Harry. "He looked everywhere for you. He even tried to turn me against those who remained loyal to Voldemort's objectives. Pathetic! I pretended to understand his reasons. I claimed to feel the same way. Ridiculous! I needed to know where he was, though, so that when the time came we could use his unique talents. And when we were ready to rise again, this sniveling, sorry excuse hid from us."

"But you found him," Miranda said.

"Oh, yes, I found our dear uncle. The foolish man trusted me. And do you know what he asked me? If I had found you, yet. After years of searching, he still carried hope that he would find you. It gave us the idea to lure you back with the dragon attacks. He would not help us, so we placed him under our control," Millicent boasted.

"The Curse is lifted," Minerva said softly.

 _We are here to free you. After I count to three, you need to pull away from your captor. I know you are confused right now, but you need to trust us. Do you see your niece, Miriam? And her daughters to her right? They are your family. Be brave for them_ , Andy thought to the older man.

Hearing his agreement, Andy directed her thoughts toward Miranda, Caroline, and Cassidy. _The Curse is lifted. As soon as he pulls away, hit her with all you've got!_

"Now. Enough chatting. Join us, and I give you my word that no harm will come to your dear uncle or to your daughters," Millicent said contemptuously.

_One..._

"They are the last of the Princhek line. A pity they are not dracotongues."

_Two..._

"But, then, why would they be, diluted with Muggle blood as they are?"

_Three!_

Andy saw Miranda's uncle jerk away, and Andy sat up quickly as she raised her wand. Her stun spell hit Millicent at the same time Miranda, Caroline, and Cassidy stunned her, the simultaneous deliveries propelling the Death Eater fifty yards, where she landed in an unconscious heap. Miranda's uncle fell to his knees and bowed his head, his body shaking. Andy felt her heart soften as she watched the man break into sobs. Miranda strode forward, knelt down, and embraced him as he wept.

"Miriam. My dear. I looked for you for so long. I am sorry. So sorry for not being strong enough to turn my back on the family. I knew you were right, but I was too afraid to stand against their twisted beliefs," the older wizard confessed, his voice broken, his gaze lowered.

"Uncle Teddy, we will sort this out. It is clear you were being controlled, and Millicent has admitted to it. You need to be treated at St. Mungo's, and once you are well we will talk more. After all, I want you to meet my daughters—your grand nieces. You are the last of our family line," Miranda replied in her soft voice while the remaining Death Eaters were rounded up.

Smirking at Miranda's use of her uncle's nickname, Andy wondered whether her stubbornness with uttering a person's full name no matter how many times a person stated a preference for the use of a nickname was somehow related to him, or if the two were entirely separate. A memory flash of the day she had first met the extraordinary woman made Andy smile. She had told Miranda that everyone called her Andy. Of course, when Miranda finally deigned to use her name, it was Andrea.

Stirred by the tender scene playing out before her, Andy watched while the older wizard lifted his tear-stained face, surprise and pleasure crossing his craggy visage, and Miranda helped him rise. Harry joined them to reassure Miranda that her uncle would be well taken care of but that they needed to get him to St. Mungo's for proper treatment. Feeling a wave of dizziness overtake her, Andy flopped back onto the cold ground with a groan and closed her eyes.

Distantly, she heard Miranda's voice, but she could not focus on the words. She was so, so tired. Aunt Minerva's voice floated on the wind, telling her to rest. A coat was placed under her head, and someone took hold of her hand. Pain ripped through her, making Andy curl in on herself, trying to somehow escape it.

_Andrea!_

Gasping through the pain, Andy heard Miranda's worried thoughts, but she couldn't think clearly enough to respond. Wetness landed across her chest, and a cooling effect eased the severe stinging sensations the gashes caused. After several more drops landed on her torso, Andy felt the pain recede. Opening her eyes, Andy stared into bright, bronze eyes, still wet with tears. _Hermione_. Looking down, she saw the ragged wounds she had received newly-healed. Thin streams of white steam rose into the air from the spots where the tears had landed. To her right, Aunt Minerva knelt while holding her hand.

It was hard to keep her eyes open, though. She had overextended herself while saving Miranda, and dueling, and remaining in her animagus form. The wounds had pushed her body past what it could tolerate, and she needed to recuperate. With a sigh, Andy closed her eyes and sank into that place between wakefulness and dreams.

"That was amazing," Andy heard Miranda murmur next to her.

"Indeed," Aunt Minerva agreed.

The rustling of robes and her hand being squeezed indicated that her aunt was rising. She smelled the dragon hide and knew that Miranda had taken her aunt's place by her side. _Andrea. Darling. Tell me you are all right. You were so brave. So wonderful._ Andy shivered as she felt Miranda gently run a finger down her cheek. _Open your eyes, love._

Not wanting Miranda to worry, Andy struggled to do as Miranda asked. Once she succeeded, Andy felt a groan ripped from her as she raised one hand to her temple.

"What's wrong?" Minerva asked, her voiced tinged with worry.

"I have a headache," Andy admitted as she rubbed the area gingerly.

"Let me," Miranda said. "Unless—" she pulled back and sat on her heels."Is my clothing contributing toward your headache?" Miranda asked in a low voice.

"No. Actually, they no longer seem to affect me negatively," Andy said, her face betraying her surprise.

Appearing relieved, Miranda gently pushed Andy's hand aside and began massaging both temples with her thumbs, her hands supporting the back of Andy's head. Andy stifled a moan as she closed her eyes and relaxed. Miranda continued with soft strokes for several minutes before stopping. "Better?" Miranda whispered.

The tenderness embodied by that one word warmed Andy's heart. She opened her eyes and pinned Miranda with a look full of affection. "Better," Andy said.

Slowly, Andy sat up. Cassidy reached down to help Miranda rise as Caroline and Aunt Minerva aided Andy off the ground. Noticing Miranda's concern, Andy beamed a wide smile at her to reassure her. Miranda was not one to normally show her feelings so plainly. Andy felt herself falling even more in love with the complex woman. She leaned in and whispered, "Thank you, Miranda. I could not have asked for a better nursemaid."

"Cheeky," Miranda murmured, undeniably relieved.

"Professor! You look older," Caroline remarked.

Looking over, Andy noticed that Hermione had returned to her human form. She agreed with Caroline's assessment. Although she still looked younger than before her rebirth, Hermione had aged significantly since this morning. At least by several years.

"It's because I have been in my animagus form for several hours. During that time, I healed more and matured in age, closer to what I was before my forced rejuvenation," Hermione explained.

"We'd best get back to the Manor. I dare say we could all use a shower, some food, and a nap. Harry has informed me that he will need statements from all of us, but not until this evening," Aunt Minerva interrupted.

As if she had just remembered, Miranda suddenly turned to Andy, a thunderous look on her face. _You can communicate with my daughters telepathically?! Why didn't you tell me?_

"It just started recently. I wasn't even sure at first. With the battle, well, it wasn't in the front of my mind," Andy said remorsefully, figuring Miranda had just spoken to her daughters telepathically and resented Andy not telling her that they were dracomouths like her.

Andy watched with bated breath as Miranda tilted her elegant head and considered her words. After several tense seconds, Miranda's mouth tilted up slightly, and she nodded slowly. Andy exhaled loudly in relief and chuckled as Caroline and Cassidy reacted in the same way.

"Ready?" Andy asked softly.

"Ready," Miranda affirmed, a pensive look on her face, and to Andy's delight, she slid an arm around her waist before they disapparated away.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 19

**Hogwarts Wednesday, April 23, 2014**

Although life went on as if the Death Eaters had not attempted to regain power over the wizarding world by coercing Miranda to use her abilities on their behalf, Andy's life had changed irrevocably. Seeing Miranda again, finding that her feelings were not unrequited, making love to the extraordinary woman, fighting next to her—all had left an indelible mark on her heart. A heart now in danger of breaking.

With her task completed Miranda would soon leave. _Will she return?_ That was the question which echoed through Andy's mind relentlessly. After all that they had shared, Andy did not want to face a future without Miranda in her life. If that meant they must embark on a long-distance relationship until Miranda's affairs were settled in New York, Andy was willing. She would even return to New York with Miranda, if that was the only way to keep Miranda by her side.

What prevented her from sleeping, though, was the very real possibility that Miranda might leave and never look back. It was possible that Miranda would choose to return to _Runway_ and all the trappings of the fashion world. Certainly, that life was drastically different than what the wizarding world offered. Miranda had chosen to live without magic for nearly thirty years. Andy was not confident that what they had shared, what they could share, was enough to entice Miranda to step off the throne of the fashion world and return to the wizarding world for good.

As if that were not enough reason to prevent Andy from restful dreams, when she closed her eyes in the wee hours of the morn, she saw Miranda pushed off the cliff at the battle of Bleaklow, falling to her death. Unlike reality, in her dreams Andy was unable to reach Miranda in time, and she was left to sob over her beloved's broken body while the sounds of battle floated on the fire-tipped winds of destruction.

After five days of separation, Andy felt Miranda's absence keenly. What hope did she have of adapting to not having the woman in her life at all?

This morning she had received an invitation from Miranda via owl for dinner tonight. Not at her home, though. Instead, they would be dining in Notting Hill at a well-known French restaurant. Andy planned to dust off her finest couture and steepest heels for the occasion, hoping to share at least one more night with Miranda, even as she pleaded for more.

And she was prepared to beg.

Not that she didn't have her pride. She was a McGonagall, after all. But, as with all McGonagalls, once she gave her heart away, no possibility existed for her to move on. So, she would do whatever she could to convince Miranda to remain in her life.

She knew Miranda cared for her through the kisses she delivered, the emotions swimming in those mesmerizing eyes, the way Miranda held her so closely while they made love. And after.

The last time they had made love had been at McGonagall Manor after the battle. So tired she could barely walk, Andy had trudged up the stairs to the room where she normally slept while visiting her aunt and had taken a hot shower to remove the blood and grime clinging to her. Then she had fallen into bed, succumbing to her exhaustion. When she had awakened several hours later, she had felt welcome curves against her back and strong arms wound around her waist.

"I wondered when you would wake," Miranda said softly, her arms tightening as she delivered a gentle kiss behind Andy's ear.

"Mmm. Did you sleep?" Andy asked. She still felt tired, but she also felt warm and safe in Miranda's embrace.

"I did. Everyone else retired to their rooms to rest, too. How are you feeling?"

"Much better,” Andy answered. She stretched, feeling her muscles pull slightly. "Where's your uncle?"

"St. Mungo's. I plan to visit him tomorrow. Today, though, today I want to spend with you," Miranda said, her hands moving over Andy's skin, causing her body to heat up. Moaning quietly, Andy turned to capture yielding lips.

They had made love for several hours, as if their very lives had depended on it. As if they had realized how fragile life was and how easily they could have lost each other that morning. Or as if they would never have the opportunity to make love to each other again. The passion had burned brightly, each seeking to express herself without word or thought—rather through brushing lips and stroking fingers. Eventually, they had fallen asleep, bodies intertwined and hands held. However, once Andy had awakened, she had found herself alone, a thorn-less, lavender rose on the cold, dented pillow next to her with a note that Miranda would contact her soon.

As each day had passed and no word had come, gloom had settled over Andy. She could not help but think that Miranda was purposefully distancing herself from Andy, preparing to leave. At least Andy had not been idle. Once she had given her statement and registered her animagus form with the Ministry, Andy had busied herself getting ready for her students' return to Hogwarts. School was back in full swing, as the piles on Andy's desk proved.

Over the last few days, Caroline and Cassidy had contacted her telepathically several times while in class. It was clear that this new skill fascinated them, and Andy was the only person with whom they could explore it. The first time it had happened, Andy had been surprised enough to stop lecturing mid-sentence. After a moment, she had realized what had happened and narrowed her eyes warningly at Cassidy, whose wide-eyed, innocent gaze had nearly broken through Andy's teacher façade and caused her to laugh.

Obviously the question, _Are you and Mom together now?_ had been asked to instigate such a reaction.

Not only did Andy feel uncomfortable answering that question when Miranda had obviously not broached the subject with them, but in truth, Andy was unsure what the status of her relationship with Miranda was. When they were together, Andy felt confident that Miranda loved her, but after several days with no contact after all that they had shared, she had no idea what to think. It was incredibly confusing.

She finished her lecture and assigned written class work before sitting down behind her desk. Although she wanted to tell Cassidy to ask her mother, she instead offered, _Your mother is a remarkable woman. As for being together, she has many obligations that would complicate any type of relationship._

 _But you love her, don't you?_ Caroline chimed in to the silent conversation.

Having experienced this ability to communicate with them both simultaneously during the battle, Andy stemmed her surprise and answered honestly. _I do. Very much. But this is not just about me or even just about her. There are other factors._

 _Not Runway. She's been talking about retiring, anyway_ , Caroline mused.

 _She means us, dummy_ , Cassidy thought. _If we return to the States, she'll stay there to help us._

 _We want to be Aurors. We even mentioned it to Mr. Potter after the battle_ , Caroline insisted.

 _We applied months ago. And if we get accepted, we can stay here_ , Cassidy added.

 _And Mom will come here, too_.

_She loves you!_

_We can tell._

_Okay! I, well, thank you for telling me. I want your mom to be happy. I don't want to make this harder on her by making any demands. I—_ A muffled boom and loud giggles interrupted Andy's thoughts, and she jumped up to extinguish the flames in the middle of a Hufflepuff's desk.

After that conversation, the twins had displayed their puckish senses of humor by thinking all types of thoughts during her classes, several of them jokes that caught Andy off-guard. They tag-teamed each other's thoughts with one telling the joke and the other providing the punch line. It was humorous and endearing. They also slipped in seemingly random, but Andy was sure well-planned out, tidbits about their mom such as how she had cut back on her hours from _Runway_ , how she visited London several times a year, and how she had kept track of Andy's writing career over time.

_Are you going to write anymore? You can write a wizarding book!_

_Yeah! You know so much. You could write a Muggle perspective on magic, or how to master the different wizarding disciplines, or how to become a magical animagus form._

_Or you could write your memoirs!_

_Um, I think I may be a bit too young for that, thank you very much_ , Andy thought wryly.

Andy grinned in remembrance of that conversation, just earlier today. Focusing on the piles in front of her, Andy admitted to herself that she would not be finishing her marking any time soon. Her smile faded, preoccupied with much weightier subjects than essays on the positive effects of a cheering charm. Sighing in defeat, Andy rose from her desk and crossed through the classroom, intent on getting some air. A walk around the perimeter of the Black Lake might do her some good. As she made her way toward the main entrance, the energy shifted next to her, easing her battered soul with its soothing waves.

Glancing to her right, she was not surprised to find her aunt had fallen into step beside her. Silently they left the school, walking briskly toward Andy's destination. She expelled her breath sharply once they were away from everyone and slowed their gait to a stroll. Andy smiled slightly, grateful for her aunt's company and implicit support. After several minutes of comforting quiet, Andy chose to air her concerns.

"She is going back to New York, and I fear she will not return." There. Now that she had voiced her insecurities, her aunt would reassure her, and Andy would realize just how foolish her fears were.

"Did she tell you that?" Aunt Minerva asked, her brogue reflecting the concern she felt.

"Not in so many words, but she has a life in New York. Responsibilities. And she had told her daughters that she would remain there if they chose to return after graduation. Now that the threat has passed, she will return to that life," Andy said with a sigh.

"When is she leaving?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't actually seen her since the day of the battle. She invited me to dinner tonight, and I fear this may be our last night together," Andy admitted.

"Then make it count. McGonagalls do not give up. You have given your heart to her. Make sure she understands what that means," Aunt Minerva said gently, placing a hand on Andy's arm. Andy felt tears fill her eyes, but she blinked quickly to hold them back.

Nodding jerkily, Andy looked out toward the Black Lake, taking solace in its stillness. It was possible Miranda did not realize how strong Andy's feelings were. Or how strong her own were for Andy. All Andy could do was lay her heart on the line and hope for the best. Squaring her shoulders, Andy nodded again. They turned toward Hogwarts and walked back as silently as they had progressed to the lake. Once they entered the castle, they halted.

"I will have someone cover your classes tomorrow so that you can take some time for yourself," Aunt Minerva said, her emerald eyes kind. "Andrea, you are always welcome here. In fact, I hope you will continue to teach at Hogwarts. If, however, your path leads you back to the States, do not hesitate on my account. I want you to be happy, dear."

"Thank you, Aunt Minerva," Andy said simply with a broken smile, and they parted ways.

***

Andy arrived at The Ledbury restaurant early, knowing Miranda's habit of arriving well ahead of schedule and her aversion to waiting for anyone. She had heard that the restaurant had no bar or even a waiting area so it was not a good idea to arrive too early, but then again the restaurant also had a two-month waiting list. Andy anticipated that Miranda's name had worked its usual magic, breaking and remaking the rules. When Andy mentioned Miranda's name, she was guided to a private table tucked away toward the back of the room. A few minutes after she sat down, the atmosphere changed, signaling Miranda's arrival.

Standing once Miranda appeared, Andy made sure not to fidget.

"Darling," Miranda said quietly as she kissed both of Andy's cheeks. She remained close as her eyes raked over Andy's body. "You look exquisite." Miranda's hands, resting familiarly on Andy's biceps, squeezed gently before letting go. Witnessing Miranda's happiness with seeing her, Andy felt reassured. Perhaps her fear that this was the end was unwarranted.

Barely restraining herself from exhaling forcefully with relief, Andy was glad she had taken extra pains to dress for the occasion. She wore a blood-red Chanel sheaf that draped over her curves perfectly and a pair of black Louboutins with its signature red soles. The sleeveless, silk dress had a modest décolletage but a plunging V in the back, emphasizing Andy's muscular arms and back. She had arranged her long hair in a loose bun, allowing several dark strands to frame her face.

The low light reflected off of the diamond studs Miranda wore in her ears, highlighting her sparkling eyes. She wore a teal-blue Rika dress designed by Diane Von Furstenberg, the thin material hiding nothing from Andy's ravenous eyes. "Miranda," Andy whispered in awe. "You...I...you look..."

A soft chuckle interrupted her poor attempt to express just how breathtaking Miranda looked. "It has been a while since you have seen me in couture. I will take your stuttering as your way of complimenting me," Miranda said in an amused voice. Andy ducked her head, embarrassed. Soft fingers whispered again her cheek. "Don't hide from me, Andrea," Miranda whispered.

Andy gazed into eyes the color of the loch near McGonagall Manor on a sunny day. "You are mesmerizing," Andy said reverently. "Every time I see you, I feel overwhelmed. I've always felt that way, I guess, but seeing you here has just, I don't know, it's like you've acknowledged the other half of yourself, and it's made you all the more alluring." Andy shrugged. "I find you irresistible."

"Darling, you must know I feel the same way. As soon as I saw you in your classroom, I knew I couldn't let the chance go by. I had to be with you," Miranda said softly, her fingers cupping Andy's cheek. Andy hadn't dared to believe Miranda would admit her feelings to such an extent. She felt warmth spread through her, quickly followed by relief.

"I've missed you, Miranda. What with my forced bed rest and your work obligations, I was afraid I wouldn't see you before you left," Andy admitted in a small voice.

"Oh, yes. Work. I had forgotten just how paper-happy the Ministry is," Miranda drawled, rolling her eyes. "I have spent the last five days writing reports on the dragons that were under the Curse, how they were affected, the state of their eggs, and any foreseeable effects on the dragon sanctuaries. Honestly," Miranda huffed. "As if there is no one else who can make such determinations. How did they get by without me? Surely there is _someone_ else who knows about dragons. Am I reaching for the stars here? Not really."

The waiter came over to their table before Andy could respond, and Miranda ordered the nine-course tasting menu paired with wine for them. Andy felt her eyes widen. She didn't know why she was surprised, though. Miranda would not settle for anything less than the best. When Andy looked back at Miranda after the waiter departed, she was at a loss as to why Miranda suddenly appeared so somber.

"Do you think so little of me, Andrea, that you believed I would treat you so poorly? That I would slink away in the middle of the night without a parting word to you?" Miranda chided, her eyes shadowed.

"It's not that," Andy said. Andy lifted Miranda's hand and turned her head to gently kiss the palm before lowering it back to the table. She intertwined their hands as she sought the right words. "I know you intend to return to the States. I know you have responsibilities there. I just, Miranda..." At a loss, Andy searched those eyes she loved so much, not feeling she had the right to make demands.

"Andrea. I don't know what to tell you. I left the wizarding world for love, and look where that got me? I had to hide a large part of who I am, and when he found out, he could not adapt." Miranda took a sip of her wine, her eyes far away. "I swore to myself that I would never allow myself to become so vulnerable again, and yet here you are." Her eyes became bright as she squeezed Andy's hand. "You, who somehow got through all my defenses. You, who accepts me entirely. You, who is willing to do whatever I ask. But I can't allow that."

"Miranda—" Andy said, feeling desperation claw through her.

"No, no. You cannot come back to New York with me. You have responsibilities here, not the least of which include continuing to educate my daughters," Miranda said.

Her back stiffening, Andy released Miranda's hand and rasped, "Don't I have a say in this?"

"Andrea, I want to be with you. You must know that. But I have responsibilities."

" _Runway_?" Andy asked incredulously.

Miranda shook her head. "My girls. If they decide to return to New York after graduation, I must remain there, too. I have to place their needs above mine. Please try to understand."

"For how long?" Andy asked, her mind working furiously.

"I don't know. I was planning to retire in about five years. If they choose to live in the States, I will keep to that schedule. If, however, they choose to remain here," Miranda shrugged. "I could accelerate it significantly, or transfer to _British Runway_ , or perhaps even work for the Ministry."

"If they decided to remain here and I was not a factor, would you have considered returning?" Andy asked. She wanted to know whether her presence made any difference. "I mean, if we had not reentered each other's lives and they found jobs here after graduation, what would you do?"

Waiting with bated breath, Andy watched a myriad of emotions cover Miranda's porcelain face in quick succession. When their eyes met, Andy gasped. The confusion, uncertainty, and pain shining from those blue eyes were emotions she never had expected to see.

"I don't know. I believe I would have remained in the States. Before you, that had been my expectation. But you did reenter my life, and that makes all the difference," Miranda said softly.

Covering Miranda's hands with her own, Andy said in a hushed voice, "Then don't go away. If you do, you might as well take away the sun. Stop the world from turning. Remove all chance of love." Seeing Miranda's anguished expression, Andy closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. Then, she gazed earnestly at the woman she loved.

"But if you stay. We'll sail on the sun. Make love in the sky as you ride on my touch. I'll talk to your eyes that I love so much, and we'll forget the rest as we communicate without words. Or if you can't stay, let me follow you to the ends of the world. I'll be the shadow of your shadow, if you'll only keep me by your side. But, if you go away..." Andy heard her voice tremble and stopped her begging.

"Andrea, please listen to me," Miranda said.

Surprised to see tears in Miranda's eyes, Andy feared the result of the next few minutes.

"I can't make any promises. Nor do I expect any from you. If the girls return to New York, I do not want you to wait for me. No," Miranda said sternly when Andy opened her mouth to object. "You are young and beautiful, brilliant and powerful. Extraordinary in every way. I refuse to hold you back. You have so much to offer someone, and I want you to be happy."

"Miranda, the last two weeks have been the happiest in my life. I want _you_. I want to be with you. We can work this out. Just don't say good-bye," Andy tried again. She stopped when she saw the inscrutable look on Miranda's face. She had made her decision.

 _I love you_ , Andy thought urgently. She watched Miranda shake her head as if to deny the declaration. Andy opened her mouth, but Miranda's panicked expression and fingers over her lips kept her mute. It was one thing to think words, and another to voice them. They both knew that. Evidently, Miranda did not want Andy to say aloud what her heart was screaming—she loved this woman unconditionally, inevitably, wholeheartedly.

The food came, and they ate quietly, both weighed down by their circumstances.

"When are you leaving?" Andy finally asked in a whisper, dreading the answer, but needing to know.

"Tomorrow. I've already said my farewells to Caroline and Cassidy," Miranda answered.

Andy nodded woodenly. "You'll be back for their graduation?"

"Yes."

"Come back with me now. Stay for the night. If you must, then leave by the morning's cold light," Andy said in a low voice. "I understand why you must go. I do. But Miranda, leave me just enough love to hold in my hand when you turn away," Andy urged. She took a deep breath and stared into shining eyes. "Will you?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

They left the restaurant quickly, and Andy guided them to the nearest floo. As soon as they stepped into her rooms at Hogwarts, Andy took Miranda in her arms and kissed her. She could feel the desperation, the sorrow, the desolation threatening to overtake her, and she closed her eyes tightly as she ran her hands over Miranda's back. Her moans spurred Andy on, and she wasted no time removing Miranda's clothes with a spell. Despite her raging emotions, Andy made sure to keep her touches gentle, treating Miranda with the consideration she deserved. She worshipped the flawless body, attempting to memorize every inch, every sound, every taste so that she would remember. These were the memories she would visit for as long as necessary—until Miranda returned.

Before Andy dropped off to sleep, she heard Miranda's voice in her mind. _I love you, too._

When Andy awoke the next morning, she felt the icy chill of the Scottish air caressing her nude form. Turning over, she noticed that Miranda was dressed and staring out the window at the overcast, dull morning light. Andy said nothing, knowing that Miranda was leaving. She could only hope that somehow her lover would find her way back into her waiting arms.

Ringing for breakfast, Andy rose and wrapped herself in a warm robe. They ate without conversation, their utensils scraping loudly against the plates. Although they took their time, it marched on inexorably, and eventually Miranda rose from her seat. She looked pale and drawn, nothing like the powerful woman Andy knew her to be. It pained her greatly.

Knowing that this farewell was hurting Miranda too, Andy stemmed her desperate words—the begging that pushed against her teeth and knocked against her thoughts. Everything had been communicated already.

Andy watched Miranda remove a small dragon from her pocket and understood that it was her portkey. She breathed in deeply, not wanting to break down. "Kiss me good-bye, darling," Miranda said tenderly.

Without hesitation, Andy stepped forward and held the woman tightly, brushing her lips against moist, parted ones over and over. Words flew through her mind, and she was unsure who was thinking them. _What good is love without loving you? I can tell you now as we part. I'll be dying slowly 'til your next hello._ Their kisses became more desperate as air thinned and heads tipped forward. Their foreheads rested together, and their bodies heaved for breath while they stood in the circle of a tight embrace.

Miranda took several deep breaths and lifted her head. Tears tracked down her face, but it did not detract from her beauty. "Don't wait for me," she whispered tremulously and stepped away.

Just before Miranda activated the portkey, Andy said defiantly, "I love you, Miranda, and I have given you my heart. I will wait for you to give me yours, for I cannae do anything else." Andy's Scottish accent, all but buried after years of studying in the States, colored her words as strong emotions overwhelmed her. She held her head high and glared at the older witch. After a pregnant silence, their gazes locked, Miranda disappeared.

With a cry of anguish, Andy turned toward the window and stared long enough that the rain glazed the windows and hid what was outside from view. Andy looked around her empty room, full of empty space, no reminder of Miranda's presence to be seen. She sank onto the bed and pulled the heavy blankets over her head, breathing in the proof of their well-loved night with anguish. Was that it? Would she ever hold Miranda in her arms again? Howling, Andy allowed the wretchedness she felt take control. She did not notice how her screams became shrieks or how her howls became roars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I borrowed heavily from "If You Go Away" which is a translation of the French song "Ne Me Quitte Pas." Check out the song sung by Barbra Streisand, Cyndi Lauper, and Sting. They are all magnificent.
> 
> Be aware that this section has a Jazzy alert...for all of you who have not yet been educated regarding this particular disclaimer, it means angst is ahead.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Some spoilers from Pottermore lore relating to Minerva's background are touched upon in this chapter rather briefly. Blink and you'll miss them!

Chapter 20

**Hogwarts School, Scotland, Tuesday, June 10, 2014**

Striding through the well-known halls of Hogwarts, Minerva felt a ghost of a smile settle in place for scant moments before she allowed her worry to overtake the joy she usually felt as another school year came to a close. She loved the feeling of completion, the knowledge that Hogwarts was turning out another fine group of wizards and witches. Not even the recent attempts by the Death Eaters to rise to power troubled her as much as the state of her niece.

Over the last seven weeks Andrea had struggled with depression. Melancholy pervaded the air around the normally vibrant woman, and Minerva felt at a loss as to how to help her.

She could well understand what it felt like to yearn for what could not be. When she was a young lass, just graduated from Hogwarts, she had fallen in love with a local boy over the summer. He had asked for her hand in marriage, and Minerva had blindly accepted. After some consideration, however, she had realized that she could not enter into such a union since he knew nothing of her wizarding heritage, and she could not give up that part of her life or live a double life. So, she had broken both their hearts by walking away, and she had not felt free to marry another until after he had died—nearly thirty years later.

The sense of loss, that burning hole in her heart, had plagued her, pulled her downward constantly. That double-edged blade of love had nearly killed her. And when she had finally found peace, when her heart had finally been released through his untimely death, she had married a man who had proposed to her numerous times over the years. He had died merely three years into their marriage, and she had sworn off love and all the vulnerability that came with it. Until Hermione.

Smiling as she thought of her wife, Minerva admitted to herself that her heart hadn't stood a chance against Hermione's charms. She had watched her grow into her power while attending Hogwarts, always inquisitive, courageous, and loyal to her friends. And after the final battle against Voldemort, Hermione had stayed at the school to help with repairs. That had been the beginning—the setting for what was to become the most magical, romantic, inevitable bond she ever shared with another. They were soul mates. Minerva recognized just how blessed she was, and she kept that in the forefront of her mind so that she would be sure to express her love for Hermione every day.

Glancing at the paintings and nodding at the various greetings she received as she continued down the stairs toward the Great Hall for dinner, Minerva mused that Andrea and she were quite similar when it came to matters of the heart. Once the heart chose, it did not matter how unlikely the pairing might be or how others might react. Andrea's heart had chosen Miranda. The poor girl.

Not that Miranda was a poor choice. Quite the contrary. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. She was a very powerful witch as well as an accomplished businesswoman. And it had been apparent to Minerva that she harbored very strong feelings for Andrea, even if she had not expressed as much to Minerva's niece.

Striding past the house tables currently filled with chattering students, Minerva made her way to the head table where the professors sat. Hermione caught her eye and smiled her greeting, lifting Minerva's spirits greatly. She felt her libido spike at the sight of her wife, and when their eyes met, she saw the answering gleam in Hermione's bronze eyes. It took all her self-restraint not to swoop in and claim Hermione's lips in a torrid (and sure to be satisfying) kiss. It would have to wait until later.

After sitting down, Minerva signaled for the meal to begin. A hand on her knee brought back the libidinous feelings simmering beneath the surface, and Minerva was unable to stop her body from trembling. Sliding her eyes to the right, she saw Hermione's smirk, and Minerva raised a challenging eyebrow. The subtle though thorough once-over Hermione gave her did much to communicate exactly what was on her younger mate's mind. It was Minerva's turn to smirk. She had found over the last couple of months, ever since she had begun to drink the phoenix tears daily, that she had much better stamina. Not that she had been out of shape before, but one normally could not escape the effects of aging entirely. It was just another example of how Hermione had enriched her life. Minerva would do her best to satisfy her randy wife tonight. With pleasure.

Dinner passed quickly, filled with gossip over the results of students' final exams, graduation preparations, and summer plans. Graduation was in merely a few days, and the graduating class included many distinguished, promising individuals—fine additions to the wizarding world. Fluttering noises above alerted Minerva to owls making their evening deliveries. Normally, deliveries occurred at lunch, but at the end of term, the owls became much busier.

A large barn owl landed next to Minerva's arm and waited patiently to be acknowledged. She removed the letter and thanked him politely. Before he flew off, Minerva offered the messenger a treat, receiving an appreciate hoot before he left. Turning the letter over, Minerva smiled slightly when she saw Harry's wax seal. Set in the Ministry's color, Minerva knew it had to do with business, yet since it was Harry's seal, the contents would be unofficial. This must be the answer she had been waiting for.

Reading it quickly, Minerva's mood lightened significantly. She banished the letter to her private rooms and turned to gaze at Hermione.

"Good news, Minerva?"

"Very good," she agreed. Rising, Minerva stopped next to Andrea, who was pushing food around her plate halfheartedly. "Come to tea tonight at eight. I won't take no for an answer. I'll see you then." She patted her niece's shoulder comfortingly and departed the hall, Hermione next to her.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked.

"Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat," Minerva teased.

"Yes. But satisfaction brought it back," Hermione rejoined with a leer.

Minerva's laughter rang through the nearly deserted hallway. "Satisfaction, hmm?" she said, her Scottish burr caressing the words. "I suppose that explains why I feel so alive nowadays."

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. After a pause, she said, "Besides, I am a phoenix." They smiled at each other as they entered their private rooms. "Now. Let's see just how alive I can make you feel," Hermione said sensually as she reached for Minerva.

Minerva gladly met Hermione's addictive lips with her own.

***

Sitting on her sofa, staring at the fire's flames, Minerva felt content. Andrea would arrive in a few minutes, but for now Minerva basked in the emotions Hermione stirred within her. Minerva had never dreamed that she would fall in love so late in life, and yet she had fifteen years ago. And it seemed she fell deeper in love as time passed and they built their lives together. Hermione stimulated her in all ways, and as her wife continued to blossom, Minerva remained fascinated if not downright enthralled.

She made her feel energized. Youthful. Alive.

Hermione was her equal in every way. Sharing her life with Hermione was exhilarating. As her mind pulled up images of what they had just shared, her body shuddered lightly.

"I know what you are thinking," Hermione's sexy voice breathed next to her ear as a hand wormed into the front of her robe from behind her. Minerva moaned, her eyes fluttering closed. She indulged in the feeling of rightness for a moment, not objecting to how Hermione so easily manipulated her body into an acutely aroused state. She would be sure to return the favor later before they both became well-sated. This teasing served as an affirmation of their shared love and desire.

"Mmm, mo Gràdh, I was indeed reliving how you took me so thoroughly earlier. I have never been so well-satisfied." Minerva tilted her head to the side and gazed heatedly at her wife. "I fully plan to reciprocate later, so I hope you are not tired."

"Not at all," Hermione murmured before she bent down to kiss her.

Their tongues rubbed enticingly as Minerva raised her hand and placed it behind Hermione's neck, pulling her forward more. She felt Hermione's other hand pinching her hardened nipple, and Minerva barely stopped herself from pulling Hermione over the back of the sofa and stripping her of her clothes. She breathed through her nose with short exhalations as her body heat rose exponentially. Thrusting her chest out, allowing Hermione to continue her magnificent torture on her breasts, Minerva broke the kiss and sucked on Hermione's neck, flashes of what they had done earlier once more filling her mind.

_Minerva holding on to the dresser...her backside raised in the air...Hermione seductively rolling her hips against her...hands torturing her sensitive breasts...._

_A whispered incantation...a hot mouth greedily sucking on a swinging breast just as she was entered forcefully from behind..._

_Hands on her hips, guiding the rhythm...the exquisite feeling of lips between her legs, tasting her...darkened brown eyes burning up at her from the woman kneeling before her...Hermione..._

_A hot mouth sucking behind her ear...on her engorged nerve center...hands holding her hips tightly...squeezing her breasts...strong thrusts...in...out...in...out....faster...harder..._

_Two Hermiones worshipping her body...pushing her toward ecstasy..._

_How?_

_Throat flexing...a primal scream of completion...voices joined...a body draped over hers...arms holding her tightly...a last kiss on her quivering center as words were whispered..._

"Did you create that spell?" Minerva asked in a low voice, her teeth scraping down Hermione's neck.

"Yes. Perhaps you can use it on me some time," Hermione said.

Minerva thought of the Engorgio spell Hermione had used to enlarge her clitoris and enter Minerva as would a man, coupled with the double-Hermione spell. Perhaps a variation of the Geminio charm?

Smiling into Hermione's neck, Minerva purred and nipped the damp skin next to her lips. "That sounds wonderful."

A knock on the door caused them both to groan in frustration. Of course, it was their own fault. Hermione removed her hands from under Minerva's robe, but Minerva kept her hold on Hermione's neck, pulling her in for one more intense kiss.

"Later, there is an intriguing spell I intend to use involving you, the shower, and magical bubbles," Minerva whispered. She grinned lasciviously at the glazed look dominating Hermione's face. Rising gracefully, Minerva readjusted her tartan robes before proceeding to the door. One hand on the handle, Minerva looked back and saw Hermione leaning weakly against the sofa. Smirking, Minerva opened the door.

"Andrea, come in," Minerva greeted her niece, delivering a kiss to her cheek and guiding her toward the couch. Just as they sat down, tea appeared on the table in front of them, exactly on time. Minerva busied herself preparing their cups as Hermione attempted to lure Andrea from her despondent state.

"Have you heard from her?" Hermione asked, sipping her tea and nodding appreciatively at Minerva.

"Not a word. But Caroline and Cassidy have been rather persistent with relaying information to me about her," Andrea said, a small smile appearing before she sighed loudly. "Not that they could tell me what they will be doing after graduation. And that affects everything!"

Minerva made placating noises. "Do not fret, Andrea. Things have a way of working out. You'll see." Andrea looked at her pensively, and Minerva could see the wheels turning. It was no mistake that she had used the same words as only a couple of months ago, just days before Miranda had arrived to help deal with the dragon attacks.

Change was in the air, and this time, Minerva had the advantage of knowing what that meant. She smiled to herself.

"Well, they made sure to tell me that Miranda was coming here for their graduation on Friday. I just have no idea how to act. I mean, are we together? Should I welcome her as a lover, or would I be embarrassing myself? I have no idea what she wants!" Andrea complained, one hand over her eyes.

"Have her daughters made any indication?" Hermione asked curiously.

"They want us together. They believe it's just a matter of time. Not that their beliefs help one bit," Andrea groused.

Minerva chuckled. She swallowed some of her tea and hummed to herself, thinking of the message she had received from Harry earlier. Poor Andrea obviously had no idea, yet. Feeling eyes upon her, Minerva looked up to find two sets of brown orbs focusing on her intently.

"You know something," Hermione said slowly.

Eyebrows rising, Minerva noted Andrea's face—hope and despair warring for dominance. She could not allow her niece to remain in such pain when she could alleviate her suffering.

Placing her tea aside, Minerva clasped her hands together on her lap and smiled broadly. "I do." She nodded for added effect. "I received news from Harry today." She paused, tilting her head as she stared at her niece. "News I believe you will welcome, Andrea."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, out with it, woman!" Hermione ordered.

"Well, some background is in order. After the battle at Bleaklow, I spoke to Harry about the Priestly twins' desire to become Aurors. Evidently, they had told Harry directly of their career aspirations, and after seeing them in battle and with the unfortunate loss of several Aurors, Harry has decided to extend invitations to them to train in his division."

"Oh my God! Why didn't they tell me? That's wonderful! That means Miranda will come here. Unless she has changed her mind. I mean, it's been a couple of months. Maybe now that she is immersed in New York life again, her feelings have changed. After all, she isn't surrounded by dragons and magic. Maybe she doesn't want that—"

"Andrea, dear. Let me finish. I may be able to shed more light on Miranda's future plans. First, Harry plans to present the invitations tomorrow at graduation, so the twins kept nothing from you. Second, Harry had additional news to impart. It seems that the temporary position of dragon consultant had become permanent. And filled." She waited a moment as she watched knowledge seep into her niece's shadowed eyes, lighting them up much as the sunrise fills the sky, chasing the darkness away.

"Miranda took the job?" Andrea said softly.

"Yes. Before she knew that her daughters were to be offered the Auror positions, I might add. In fact, except for us and Harry, no one knows. So you see, my dear niece, Miranda made her choice. She chose you." Minerva leaned forward and squeezed Andrea's hand.

"Oh! I can't believe it! I'm going to see her this week, and she is staying. I can't...this is..." Andrea's eyes flitted everywhere and nowhere, a hand over her mouth as tears streamed down her face.

It warmed Minerva's heart.

Soon after Minerva gave Andrea the life-changing news she left, and Minerva enjoyed knowing her efforts to convince Harry that training the Priestly twins would be worth his while had paid off. Sure they were young, but they were no younger than Harry and Ron had been when they had begun their training, as she had pointed out to Harry when he had objected. Their talents were well-documented at school, and he had seen first-hand their practical abilities during the battle. Minerva had not hesitated to mention their blossoming ability to speak dracotongue, either. He knew not to let others know lest that invite danger, but such a skill would only aid them and the Ministry.

"If I recall correctly, you mentioned something about us, a shower, and magical bubbles," Hermione soft voice broke the silence.

"Did I?" Minerva asked coyly as she rose from the sofa and embraced Hermione tightly.

"Yes," Hermione insisted, kissing under Minerva's jaw. "You did."

Sweeping Hermione into her arms, feeling stronger than she had in decades, Minerva growled playfully and strode toward their master bath. Once in the bathroom, she removed their clothing, pausing before the mirror to acknowledge that her skin looked firmer and younger, the wrinkles on her face finer and fewer. Another blessing Hermione had given to her by way of the phoenix tears—proof that the ravages of time were being reversed so that Minerva could live longer with her beloved.

 _And I will use this time well_ , Minerva vowed while picking Hermione up once more and kissing the woman as they entered the shower stall where hot water began to spray over their heated bodies. _Now for those bubbles_ , she thought. And she grinned wickedly.

*******

Apparating to the perimeter of Hogwarts, Miranda took a deep breath. Then another. She was nervous. Excited. But nervous. It annoyed her. She had no reason to be anxious. Everything she wanted was within her grasp. She just needed to believe. And trust. Simple.

Miranda snorted. Trusting had never been her strong suit. She had several emotional scars that proved what happened when she took a leap of faith. Yet, she knew she could trust Andrea, if only because the formidable witch had delivered her heart into Miranda's care, even though she had no reassurance that Miranda would treat it well.

Once Miranda had returned to the States, she had searched her feelings and admitted to herself that being with Andrea was worth risking her heart. She loved the woman. Miranda believed the feelings had been present for quite some time. She did not want to return to an existence without Andrea by her side. She would not.

With that truth in mind, Miranda had discussed her feelings with her daughters, including her intention to return to the UK. They had resoundingly insisted that she come as soon as possible. Regardless of whether they were able to become Aurors right away, they would not return to the States. Miranda hadn't realized that they had made such a decision, but they steadfastly refused to live in a world without magic. This confounded Miranda since in all their previous conversations concerning life after graduation, they had waffled on what they would do. Yet, their reaction had made Miranda's decisions much easier.

They had also kept her apprised of Andrea's condition. Evidently, she was struggling, often sad and withdrawn. It broke Miranda's heart to know she was the cause of such sorrow. She would have her work cut out for her to gain Andrea's trust and to make the alluring witch happy. She would do it, though, starting today.

The brisk morning air was a welcome balm on Miranda's heated skin as she walked quickly toward Hogwarts' front gates. She couldn't wait to see Andrea, to take her in her arms, to tell her—.

"Good morning, Miranda," a well-known, venerable voice broke through her thoughts. Miranda realized with a start that she was nearly at the gates. With a soft word, the ostentatious, ebony-colored metal gates opened, and the Headmistress stood before her.

"Good morning, Minerva. I trust you are well," Miranda said politely.

"Very well, thank you. What brings you to Hogwarts?" Minerva said just as politely.

Narrowing her eyes, Miranda sized up the impressive woman, quickly concluding that before she could prove herself to Andrea, she would have to explain her appearance to her apparently overprotective aunt. Sighing, Miranda rubbed the bridge of her nose. There was no help for it, and really she should have anticipated this eventuality.

"I am here to see Andrea," Miranda answered.

"I dare say she is quite busy, what with graduation in two days and the school closing next week. Perhaps you should wait to see her on Friday or make an appointment," Minerva said blandly, her flashing eyes revealing deep emotions that her stance and voice did not.

Squaring her shoulders, Miranda tilted her head in contemplation. How best to handle this. She pursed her lips while staring at the Headmistress. "I have no intention of leaving. I am here to see Andrea, and I will. I understand that you want what is best for her, but she is certainly able to make her own decisions. Let me pass." Noting the confrontational way Minerva stood, she added with a sigh, "Please. I must see her."

"What are your intentions?" Minerva asked.

"I believe Andrea should hear such an answer before you do," Miranda answered stiffly.

"Nevertheless, you shall not pass unless you answer me. Besides Hermione, she is the only family I have left. I will not allow you to hurt her any more than you have."

Miranda blanched. "I did not mean to hurt her. In fact, I have changed my life to be with her, if she will have me." She stared at Minerva and made her feelings clear. "I love her. And although it will not happen immediately, I mean to make her my wife," she stated boldly, head held high, daring the woman to object. After a protracted staring war, Minerva nodded. Miranda just prevented herself from sighing with relief.

"Very well, but be warned. If you cast her away, you will deal with me," Minerva said, her Scottish lilt making the threat much more palatable to the ears but not any less intimidating. She stepped aside, and Miranda moved through the gates. As they drew level, Minerva laid a hand on Miranda's arm to stall her progress. "Take care of her, Miranda," she said softly, a note of pleading in her voice.

Miranda nodded with a small smile, and they parted ways.

***

As she crossed the entryway into the Charms classroom, Miranda marveled over how much had transpired during the last two months. She had embraced a part of her life that she had turned her back on, reclaimed her power, reconciled with her uncle, communicated with her daughters using dracotongue, and lived out her fantasies of being with Andrea.

Andrea, who had haunted her dreams for years. Andrea, who was one of the most powerful witches alive, if not of all time, keeping good company with her aunts, Minerva and Hermione. Andrea, who declared her love fearlessly and trusted that Miranda would find her way back. Andrea, who stood frozen at the front of the classroom, watching as Miranda sealed the door and applied a silencing charm on the room before approaching the dragon animagus.

Without a word, Miranda took Andrea into her arms and kissed her as she had dreamt since they had parted. A sob escaped Andrea's lips, and Miranda looked into wet eyes that sparkled with joy.

Soon, she had Andrea's legs resting on her shoulders as she licked ravenously at her dripping essence. The sounds she made, the long, drawn-out moans and addictive, high-pitched groans, pushed Miranda's passion higher. She filled her lover with three fingers, stroking slowly and deeply as she twisted her fingers to rub Andrea just the way she loved. As Andrea's body gyrated more frantically and her cries became louder, Miranda sucked the engorged center of nerves, determined to satisfy her Andrea, to let her know through her actions how much she cared. She caressed Andrea's gloriously muscular backside as it flexed rhythmically.

"Andrea. I have missed you. I could not stay away. Tell me you want me. You need me," Miranda demanded passionately. She looked up into mocha eyes as she sucked strongly, moaning at Andrea's distinctive, addictive taste and how easily her fingers slid through the profuse moisture that proved how aroused Andrea was. For her.

"I want you. I need you," Andrea moaned breathlessly.

"Come for me, darling. Show me you are mine," Miranda demanded. Andrea's cries of completion were music to her ears, and without even one touch from her lover, Miranda followed her over into the abyss, her shout joining Andrea's beautiful voice.

Taking deep breaths while her head rested on a well-defined thigh, Miranda felt peaceful for the first time since leaving Hogwarts two months ago. A hand sifted through her hair hypnotically, and she floated on the edge of consciousness. Her rational mind told her how comical it was that she was kneeling on the hard, wooden floor while naked, her body resting against the desk while nestled between Andrea's legs, the aroma of sex permeating the air. And yet she would not have moved for all the gold in Gringotts.

"I love you so much," Andrea said softly.

Standing up, Miranda helped Andrea sit up on the desk and gazed deeply into those mesmerizing eyes she had become fascinated with so long ago. "I love you, Andrea. I'm sorry I left, but I have come back for you. I realize you have no cause to trust me, but I would like nothing better than to build a relationship with you. I resigned from _Runway_ , and I've told my daughters that I will remain here, regardless of their career choices. I will resume my dragon consultant duties with the Ministry in September. Give me a chance?"

"You won't have to worry about the girls. They are both being offered spots in the Auror training program," Andrea said.

That was wonderful news, but it did not answer her heart-felt question. Would Andrea give her an opportunity to love her as she truly deserved? "And your answer to my question?" she prompted.

Andrea's smile lit up the room and Miranda's heart. "Yes."

"Yes?" Miranda asked, afraid to believe but wanting to desperately.

"Yes." Their kiss was filled with elation and promises not yet voiced. They had much to discuss, much to decide, but they had time now. Miranda would not waste it.


	22. Chapter 22

Epilogue

**Hogwarts School, Scotland, Sunday, June 12, 2016**

_Can you come out to play?_ Andy asked through the blue chalcedony statue in the likeness of her dragon animagus form that she had gifted Miranda two years ago for her birthday.

_Now that graduation is nearly upon you, time has suddenly become available for the lonely fiancée to spend with her fabled dragon animagus?_

Grinning at Miranda's teasing words, Andy thought of how best to entice Miranda away from her home office, where she was no doubt up to her ears in notes about dragon behavior. _It's Sunday, love. Come have some fun with me. After this week the school will be closed, and we will not have the luxury of flying around these lands until September._

 _Where is your partner in crime?_ Miranda asked cheekily. Smiling, Andy took a moment to wonder where Hermione was. No doubt with Aunt Minerva, perhaps sleeping late. Andy could tell by Miranda's teasing that she would be joining her shortly. No doubt she was getting ready as they mentally conversed.

_I am unsure. Probably in bed._

Hearing the floo activate, Andy watched Miranda step out of the fireplace, brushing the powder from her charcoal-gray robes. Andy opened her arms in welcome, sinking into the kiss Miranda offered. Their lips brushed together once, twice, before meshing into a heated kiss. Smiling against those bewitching lips, Andy sucked on the bottom one affectionately before letting go. "Good morning," Andy said tenderly.

"It does seem to be getting better by the moment," Miranda said, her lips curved in an attractive smirk. Andy chuckled.

"Come sit down for a moment. Would you like some coffee?" Andy asked.

"Never mind that," Miranda said as she sat on a loveseat, pulling Andy onto her lap. Andy shivered as she felt Miranda's lips gliding up her throat and sucking lightly behind her ear. "I've missed you."

"Mmm," Andy hummed. "I've missed you, too. Just two more weeks, though, and you know you can stay with me at the school before then."

"Yes. Next week my schedule will be more flexible. Are you ready for our trip to the Bahamas with the girls? Three weeks can't come soon enough," Miranda said, her hands stroking Andy's back just the way she loved.

"More than ready. I know they are excited. They've already planned out all the activities. Snorkeling, parasailing, kayaking, and sunset cruises," Andy listed.

"That sounds lovely," Miranda said before capturing Andy's lips with another, more passionate kiss.

"Oh, God! Miranda, you are driving me nuts," Andy said breathlessly.

"That is the general idea," Miranda murmured, her hands gliding down Andy's back and settling on her waist.

Groaning, Andy pulled back. "I haven't turned into my animagus form today, and it's so nice out. Come fly with me, love." She looked at Miranda through her eyelashes, using her best tried-and-true puppy-dog look.

"Very well, but we will return to this later," Miranda said.

"Yes, we will. I have plans for you, Dragon Whisperer," Andy agreed, batting her eyes. She rose, offering a hand to Miranda and taking the opportunity to hug the woman close to her. She had truly missed her. They made sure to talk every day, and they visited each other as often as possible, but toward the end of term, it was hard to find time to spend together.

They left her rooms and walked toward the Grand Staircase. Hearing a familiar voice call her name, Andy stopped and looked back. Hermione was walking toward them. "Going flying?" Hermione asked after greeting them both hello.

"Yup. Why don't you come with us?" Andy invited.

"I think I will. Minerva is dealing with some school business and will be tied up for a bit," Hermione said as they descended the stairs, nodding to students in passing.

Used to the students' attention as she walked through the castle, Andy smiled inwardly as she heard words bandied around such as _dragon_ , _animagus_ , _whisperer_ , _phoenix_ , and her favorite: _most powerful witch_. Andy had enjoyed many entertaining conversations with her aunts and Miranda over who that phrase applied to. In Andy's mind, Aunt Minerva, Hermione, and Miranda all deserved that label, but not her. She was a serial student, one of those witches that kept learning and tallying up the titles. That did not necessarily mean she was powerful, though. And, yeah, she could turn into a dragon animagus, but that didn't mean she was powerful either, just fortunate. The others emphatically disagreed.

Once they entered the courtyard, Andy walked across to the center where she'd have plenty of room to transform. She turned around and noticed the crowd of students watching her. For some odd reason, people liked to watch her transformation. Shrugging, Andy allowed the feeling of immensity and potency to fill her. She tipped her head back as her body became larger and larger, surging up and morphing into her dragon form. Andy opened her maw and roared with satisfaction. Looking around she saw Miranda reach her and felt her hop nimbly onto her back.

 _You are magnificent_ , Miranda's voice floated through her mind. _I love you._

_And I love you. Ready?_

With another gleeful roar, Andy took to the sky. To her right, Hermione flew next to her in her phoenix animagus form. It was a glorious day, and Andy twirled lazily, knowing that Miranda would not fall off thanks to the adhesive spell they utilized for such flights. _When we get back, if you are willing, I have a new spell in mind I'd like to try with you._

 _Really? Another spell from your book of sexual tricks?_ Miranda's thoughts rang through Andy's mind.

_No. Hermione told me about it last night after several drinks. It sounded intriguing._

_What does it entail?_

_Magical bubbles._

***

Watching through her window as Andrea, Miranda, and Hermione enjoyed the sunshine, Minerva sighed. She wanted to be outside, too. Hearing Hermione's sweet voice singing on the breeze, Minerva made her decision. After finishing the letter before her and adding her signature, she quickly moved to the bedroom and donned a lighter robe. Feeling the urge to hurry, Minerva changed into her cat animagus form and sprinted across the room. It felt wonderful to stretch her legs and jump through the air. She playfully swatted at the service bell near the living portraits, attracting the attention of several former Headmasters and Headmistresses as she performed a neat flip and meowed archly.

"There's my Tabby. Go have fun. Enjoy the day," Albus said.

Cocking her furry head at the former Headmaster, Minerva meowed once more in agreement and pranced through the small cat door off to the side. She scampered down the stairs and through the halls until she reached the inner courtyard. Once outside, Minerva turned back to her human form and smiled at her own antics. She felt energized.

It was becoming apparent to others that she was no longer aging. That, in fact, she was appearing younger. She and Hermione had discussed this development at length. Hermione would not allow her to renege on their agreement by ceasing to drink the phoenix tears daily. Yet, they did not want the Ministry to investigate the reasons for her youthful transformation too closely. During their last conversation, Minerva had introduced the idea that she retire from Hogwarts at the end of next year. She had given enough of herself to future wizard generations, and as selfish as the sentiment was, she wanted to enjoy some time to herself.

Not that she expected Hermione to leave Hogwarts. On the contrary, Hermione was a wonderful professor, and if she wanted it, she could become Hogwarts' Headmistress in the future. Minerva was confident, though, that she would find more than enough activities to fill her time. She had projects at the Manor just waiting for her attention, people to visit, books to write, research to complete, and lectures to give. Perhaps it was time.

Hearing Andrea roar, she looked up into the picturesque blue sky, smiling at the tableau. Sun glinted off Andrea's silver underbelly as Hermione swooped under and around the dragon animagus, singing a melodious tune, full of fun and elation.

Minerva wanted to be with them. She wanted to fly near them, feel the air sift through her hair, delight in their apparent freedom. She took solace in their happiness, though, not allowing herself to begrudge their pleasure.

A prickling sensation began to invade Minerva's limbs, and she wondered what was pushing her into her animagus transformation. It felt different, though. Glancing at her body, she noticed immediately that it was taking longer for the transformation, and her body was not becoming smaller. In fact, she was widening, becoming taller and broader. Tilting her head back, she let out a piercing cry.

Transformation complete, several students pointed at her, talking excitedly. She heard the word griffin repeated over and over. She realized she was crouched and took a moment to check in with her body. She felt strong. Supple. Immense.

Flexing her shoulders, she felt her wings spread behind her head. Turning her head, she noticed that her wings were golden, blending in with her tawny body. Her front legs were light and muscular, ending in finely honed talons. Around the ankles sat a ring of pure white feathers. She figured her head consisted of the same striking plumage. Her back legs felt extremely strong. Looking down, she confirmed that they consisted of a lion's musculature. Swishing her tail, Minerva pushed off the ground while flapping her wings and sped into the sky with a shriek of pride issued through her razor-sharp beak.

As she got closer to Andrea, Miranda, and Hermione, Minerva wondered how to let them know who she was. She let out another piercing cry and heard a questioning trill. _Hermione._ Of course, she would be able to communicate with her since they were both magical birds—well, Minerva was only an eagle on the upper part of her body, but that included her communication abilities.

"It's Minerva. I have a new animagus form, it seems," Minerva said as she circled well underneath Andrea.

"Minerva?!" Hermione answered.

Minerva sighed with relief. The phoenix animagus approached, eyes staring at her fixedly.

"It's me, Hermione. I am a griffin animagus. I had no idea," Minerva said, her words communicated through a string of short and long shrieks and tweets.

Hermione flew around Minerva and landed on her back. She turned back into her human form, her legs settling around Minerva's flanks as a loving hand sifted through the white feathers on her head. "This is phenomenal. You never cease to amaze me!" Hermione's words floated on the breeze, warming Minerva. "Fly closer to Andy. They'll see me on you and know that you are not a threat."

Flapping her eagle wings, Minerva angled so that they would intercept Andy's lazy flight path. When they got closer, Miranda saw them and yelled out Hermione's name questioningly.

"It's Minerva! She has a new animagus form!" Hermione shouted.

Minerva could see Miranda's nod of understanding. A moment later, Andy roared her approval as she turned her head and stared at Minerva, who screeched in reply. Minerva approached her niece and began flying off of her right wing over the Black Lake. They turned back toward the school, and Minerva noticed the crowd of students and faculty watching them. With her eagle eyes, Minerva could easily distinguish the looks of pure amazement and wonder on their upturned faces.

After flying for an indeterminable time, Minerva felt herself tiring. Turning toward the courtyard, Minerva landed softly and folded her wings. Hermione dismounted and positioned herself next to Minerva's head. She watched as Andy landed next to her and Miranda dismounted. After Andy transformed back to her human form, Minerva took a deep breath and transformed back to her human form, feeling weakness overtake her body. Hands caught her and gently lowered her to a sitting position on one of the side walls.

"That was incredible, Aunt Minerva," Andy said excitedly.

"Quite impressive," Miranda added sincerely.

"Mo Gràdh, that was phenomenal. You are phenomenal. Tha gràdh agam ort," Hermione said as she joined her on the wall, one arm supporting Miranda around the back.

Smiling tiredly, Minerva said, "Thank you. I had forgotten just how tiring it can be when assuming an animagus form for the first time."

"I was under the belief that a person could only have one animagus form," Miranda said.

"That is normally true. It seems, however, that my body has decided to gift me with another form. As a matter of fact, I turned into my cat animagus form while in the castle. I do not recall any written accounts of anyone being able to transform into more than one form," Minerva admitted.

"It seems I am surrounded by magical animagi masters," Miranda said, her voice filled with admiration.

"If you are ever interested in becoming an animagus, you only need to say the word," Hermione offered. Miranda tilted her head in thanks.

"Well, I must admit I am rather worn out. Hermione, would you mind apparating us back to our rooms? I would like to rest," Minerva said as she stood up slowly.

"Of course. Enjoy the rest of the day," Hermione said to the others before transforming into a phoenix and chirping sweetly.

"See you later, Aunt Minerva," Andy said as she leaned in and delivered a kiss on Minerva's cheek. Minerva smiled at Andy and Miranda before grasping her wife around the middle.

"Why don't the two of you join us for dinner at the Manor on Saturday? Your daughters, too, if they are available, Miranda," Minerva said, smiling at Hermione's agreeable tweet. Once Miranda and Andrea nodded, Minerva said, "All right, love. I am ready."

As she felt the tell-tale pull of the apparation transporting them to their bedroom, Minerva mused that she lived in a wondrous world, surrounded by magic, and love, and adventure. Smiling, Minerva admitted to herself that she looked forward to experiencing the next chapter of her life, regardless of what that might mean. All that mattered was that she would be experiencing it with Hermione by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Well, that's all she wrote (she being me). I want that everyone who has taken the time to leave encouragement, feedback, comments, and reactions. You kept me honest throughout the process by making sure I could explain my choices and provide an entertaining story. You also kept me motivated. Also, thanks to those who normally do not read one of these fandoms for trusting me enough to take the leap...I hope you felt it was worth it.


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